


give me a reason

by daggertattoos



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, If it goes on, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, background shiro/allura - Freeform, bi!lance, gay!keith, hopefully, i hate angst but i love angst yknow??, i suck at tagging but i'll add more as it goes on, she/her pronouns for pidge, they argue like an old married couple i just
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 15:06:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9825806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daggertattoos/pseuds/daggertattoos
Summary: loosely based off this prompt on tumblr (i can't remember where):"We're all fighting viciously to buy the old mansion on the hill that's up for sale for cheap when we realize that everything will be cheaper if we split it X number of ways."featuring keith and lance as the two main buyers who desperately need the house (and each other), hunk as lance's best friend and partner-in-crime, shiro as keith's brother and resident Dad™ and pidge who constantly saves everyone's asses





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello! I know it's been a while, but I'm back with something completely new! I've recently gotten into voltron and I'm OBSESSED, especially with my pure sons keith and lance, so here I am with my first ever klance fic, and even though I hate writing chaptered fics, I felt like this had to be one and I do hope to continue it, so I really hope you guys like it!
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Title from Reasons by Khalid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise in advance for any mistakes and if it just sucks overall because 1. I haven't written anything in forever and 2. Its almost 2 in the morning and I'm half dead, but either way, I hope you enjoy it!

Lance fucked up. Big time. And normally, that would just be another day in the life of Lance McClain, but this time, he might’ve overdone it. See, it’s not like that time he accidentally flooded the laundry room, or the time he faked a fire drill to get out of class, or even the time he turned their dorm into a temporary dog shelter because it was winter and those poor puppies had nowhere to go for Christmas. No, this is something more. This is bad, _really_ bad, even for him. And it's not one of those things that he can fix with a blink of his puppy dog eyes, or a flash of his ever charming smile, or even a fresh stack of pizzas from Marco’s. It’s more like one of those things that lands him and Hunk on the curb outside the building of their college dorm, thrown out on their asses with an official letter of eviction and all their belongings dumped around them like they're nothing but trash, from their books to their clothes to Hunk’s latest project that certainly didn’t look that wonky the last time they saw it.

And the worst part is that Hunk has no idea what’s happening.

“Lance?”

“Yeah, bud?”

“You wanna tell me why we’ve just been kicked out of our dorms?” 

Lance swallows thickly, because Hunk’s using _that_ tone, the one he uses whenever Lance screws up, the one that makes him feel like a complete idiot for whatever it is that he did because really, he kind of is. But underneath that, there's a hint of guilt in Hunk’s voice, one that's directed to himself, one that says _‘I should’ve seen this coming.’_ See, Hunk’s been Lance’s best friend for as long as he can remember and in that time, he’s gotten used to Lance’s pranks and shenanigans, even becoming his partner-in-crime for some of them. And they’re mostly just innocent tricks, just fun and games for a laugh every now and then, until they’re not. There's a line that they shouldn't cross, and the thing is, Lance has a bad habit of not knowing where that line is and Hunk has a bad habit of letting him cross it anyway.

When Lance starts with, “I might’ve done something-” Hunk heaves a sigh, a hand coming up to press fingers against his temples, a migraine already coming on from having to deal with Lance’s shit. And because he vaguely remembers Lance coming up with the ideas before he went on his trip, just to be sure, he asks, “Was it the spiders or the fireworks?” 

And really, he should’ve been expecting it when Lance hesitantly answers, “... _Both?_ ”

The look Hunk gives him right then is one that he wishes he’d never had to see, but there it is, burning eyes and scowling lips, staring him right in the face and it’s only then that Lance realises what he heard earlier wasn’t guilt. It was _frustration_. Hunk was angry at him. And rightfully so. It’s just that Lance never thought he’d live to see the day that he managed to push Hunk to his limit, but it seems he’s done the impossible and man, he really wishes he hadn’t.

“Look, Hunk, I can explain-”

“ _Explain?_ ” Hunk got to his feet, making Lance feel a million times smaller under his large shadow and heavy gaze. “How are you gonna explain this? How are you gonna give me a good reason as to why we’re out on the streets right before our semester starts? On the fucking streets, Lance!”

“I didn’t mean to-” 

“Oh, you didn't mean to? So, what, you just happened to have some venomous tarantulas lying around that somehow got loose in the dorms? I mean, that was the plan, wasn’t it?” Hunk continues, mockery ringing clear in his voice and the sound of it makes Lance wince. “And the fireworks you wanted to ‘test’ on the balcony? Was that an accident too?”

“I didn’t _know_ they were venomous-”

“All tarantulas are venomous, Lance!” Hunk cries, exasperation obvious in his tone as his arms fly up, hands fisting tightly as he tries to contain himself. “You’d know that if you just took a second to think about it. Just a second. See, that’s your problem, you know? You never _think_ , you just _do_. And you don't realise that there are consequences to the things you do.”

Lance doesn’t know what to say, because really, there's nothing to say, because Hunk is right, Hunk is always right. Lance acts on impulse, he always has. He does whatever he wants, whenever he wants, however he wants. He doesn’t bother with the consequences because he's never had to, because Hunk had always been right behind him, cleaning up his messes as they go. But this time, he might’ve made too big of a mess and all he can think to say is, “I’m sorry.”

But Hunk just lets out another heavy sigh, letting his arms fall to his side and his face is laced with disappointment now, and it makes Lance’s stomach churn. “It doesn't matter if you're sorry. It happened. You did it. And people could’ve been hurt, _really_ hurt. Don’t you get that? Don’t you see that this isn’t a game? This is our lives, our future, this is _my_ future!” He shuts his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply before opening them and looking Lance right in the eye, sounding awfully defeated when he asks, “Where am I gonna go from here?” 

Where am _I_ \- Not we. _I._ The words are unspoken, hanging in the space between them, but with the way Hunk is frowning down at him, his head shaking just barely, Lance can hear it clear as day: Hunk is done cleaning up after him. Hunk is done with _him_.

“Grow up, Lance,” he mutters, the words sounding bitter as they leave his lips, and they sting as they hit Lance, knocking the air right out of him. “The world isn't going to wait for you to get your shit together.”

Lance is frozen in place as he watches Hunk gather what he can of his things, and it’s only when he’s halfway across the street, bags slung over his body, books tucked under his arms, that Lance realises he's seriously leaving and he scrambles to his feet, yelling, “Wait! Where are you going? Hunk! You can’t just- Where are you-”

“Anywhere!” Hunk shouts back without even sparing him another glance, his body slowly fading as he begins to blend into the crowd and Lance stares after him hopelessly, his arms going limp at his sides.

“I’ll fix it!” he calls out, voice hoarse, even though he knows there’s no way that Hunk could still hear him. He falls back to the curb, hugging his knees to his chest as he blinks back the tears that are threatening to fill his eyes. “I swear to you, Hunk, I’ll fix this.”

And if he's being honest, he has no idea how he’ll do it, no idea where he’d even start, but he’ll make things right, even if it’s the last thing that he does.

—

Keith fucked up. Again. And really, it shouldn’t come as a surprise anymore to find him sitting in one of the holding cells of the police station, wrists handcuffed and knuckles split, a busted lip to go along with his black eye, just like he had been so many times before. The officers that pass him are the same ones he’s seen every other time he's been here, the looks on their faces exactly the same as they’ve always been. Disapproval. Disgust. Even pity in some. _‘There’s that Kogane kid again,’_ they’d whisper amongst themselves, sending him dirty glares, thinking they were being discreet when Keith saw right through them. But it didn’t matter. He stopped caring about those assholes around the third time he was arrested, shooting daggers at anyone who so much as looked his way for more than a second. Soon enough, they learned to keep to themselves, too afraid to even come near him in fear that he’ll bite. And honestly, on a bad day, he just might. So it becomes a routine, Keith getting into trouble, getting caught, getting his sorry ass dragged into the station and shoved into the same old cell, left to rot.

And the worst part is that Shiro always knows exactly where to find him.

“Keith?”

“What?” 

“I’m not gonna lecture you, but…” 

Keith almost rolls his eyes because Shiro is using _that_ tone, the one that tells him that he is, in fact, about to lecture him and really, he shouldn't waste his breath. Keith has heard it far too many times before, the whole epic speech about how he can’t keep pulling shit like this, how he has all this ‘potential’ to be better if only he put in a little effort, and how Shiro isn’t mad at him, he's just _disappointed_. But, little does he know that disappointment is far worse than anger. He’d rather have Shiro yell at him, curse him, even beat the shit out of him, than have him look down at Keith with sad eyes and frowning lips, one word written all over his face: _regret._  He never wanted Shiro to regret him.

So before Shiro can even start, Keith is already holding a hand up – or at least the best he can manage with it being handcuffed to the other – and he says, “Don’t bother, man. I know exactly what you're gonna say. I've heard it a million times and-”

“Exactly,” Shiro interrupts, waving away his outstretched hand and there's a change in his stance, his back straightening, shoulders tensing up as he crosses his arms over his chest. “You’ve heard it a million times and you still haven't changed a goddamn bit, so maybe hearing it once more will make a fucking difference.”

Keith’s jaw goes slack, because Shiro hardly ever swears, hardly ever uses any word that's deemed anything less than polite and on the rare occasion that he does, it's never been directed at Keith and he's not sure how he feels about that. He's not sure how he feels about finally hitting that last nerve. He supposes he's always wondered how much Shiro could take, how far Keith could push before he finally started pushing back, but now that it's happened, all he wants is to take it all back.

But he doesn't know how, he doesn't know what to say, so all that comes out is a weak, “I’m sorry.” 

“We’ve been here before, Keith,” Shiro tells him, his tongue still sharp, but there's a tiredness in his voice that matches the dark circles under his eyes and Keith knows he's just as sick of this as he is. “You and I both know that sorry doesn't mean anything coming from you. It doesn't change anything. It doesn't change the fact that you're still just as stubborn as you've always been. And I told you, didn't I? I told you that if you ever had any problems, you come to me and we’d figure it out together. _Together_. But you just-” He sighs, his arms coming loose, a hand running over his face and right then, he looks younger than he's ever been, and Keith is only reminded of how young he really is and he feels a twist of guilt in his stomach. “You can't keep acting like the things you do don’t bring consequences. And that they only affect _you_ because they don’t. You know they don’t. And I don’t know what else it's gonna take to make you understand that you're not alone here, Keith, that it’s not just you against the universe. I don't know what else you want me to do.”

Keith’s breath hitches in his throat, whatever smartass comeback he had on the tip of his tongue being swallowed completely and instead, his voice is small, eyes refusing to meet Shiro’s when he whispers, “Can we please just go home?”

Shiro scoffs suddenly, and it's such a harsh sound, one that burns in Keith’s ears, one that makes him look up at the older man, only to see him staring back at him with a cold glare. “No, Keith, we can't go home. We can’t go home because we don't have a home anymore.”

That gets a rise out of him, sitting up straighter on the metal bench and his eyes narrow into slits, his familiar scowl replacing the pout that was on his lips almost immediately. “Wait, we got kicked out of our apartment?”

“Yeah, we did. Banned from the building too.” When Keith opens his mouth to protest, Shiro shoots him a pointed look that silences him and at this point, he doesn’t bother masking the sarcasm in his tone when he adds, “You know, that tends to happen when you beat the living crap out of the landlord’s son.”

“Beat the living crap- Oh, _please!_ I barely touched the guy!” Keith cries, not entirely sure why he's trying to defend himself when they both know that that's not true.

“If _you're_ messed up this bad, just imagine what shape he's in!”

“Well, he started it!”

“It doesn't matter-”

“But it wasn't my fault-”

“ _I said_ , it doesn't matter-”

“But, _Shiro-_ ”

“Enough, Keith!” Shiro yells suddenly, loud enough to make the entire station turn to them and he breathes out heavily, his eyes shutting as he presses his head to the cool metal of the cell bars. “That's enough. _Please_.”

There's something in the way he says it, something in the way his voice breaks just a little, like it's taking everything in him to hold himself together and it's only then that Keith realises he wasn't just talking about the fights, or the arrests, or the excuses, or any of it at all. Shiro was talking about him. Shiro’s had enough of _him_.

“Wake up, Keith,” he mutters, training his eyes onto the boy, lips trembling like it's killing him to say the words and Keith stares back at him, hurt flashing across his face. “It's about time you realised that the world doesn't revolve around you.” 

Keith is stunned, momentarily forgetting to breathe, his knuckles going white as he grips his knees and it's only when Shiro says, “I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning,” that he realises he's leaving, immediately jumping to his feet, hands gripping desperately at the metal bars.

“Shiro, wait!” he calls after him, watching his back disappear further away from him. “You can’t just leave me here! _Shiro!_ ” 

But he’s gone, and Keith is alone, and he doesn't know what to do. All he knows is that he needs to get Shiro back on his side and if the only way he can do that is by making things right, then that's exactly what he’ll do.

—

Lance had found Hunk moping at the bus stop just down the road after their fight, his things in a messy pile at his feet and he looked just as miserable as Lance felt, so with a little persuasion and several promises of pizza, Lance managed to coax the guy into checking into some dodgy looking two-star motel that would hopefully be safe enough for them to use as a temporary shelter while Lance sorted things out, which he told Hunk he definitely would, as soon as he could.

That’s how he found himself awake at eight in the morning the very next day, sitting in the Director’s office, trying to argue his case – or rather _Hunk’s_ case. 

“But he didn’t do anything!” Lance cries for the hundredth time, damn near tearing his own hair out because this old guy refuses to listen to him. “Just let him stay! Just Hunk! I don’t care if you wanna kick _me_ out of the dorms, or- or even _expel_ me-”

“Now, now, Mr. McClain,” he says in that fake-polite sort of tone, the kind that adults use when they’re talking to children, as if Lance was a _child_ , not a student at his university. “Let’s not be dramatic. You should be grateful that the board decided to let you continue your studies, because everyone seems to agree that you’re an excellent student, and you’d be even better, if only you had the same amount of discipline that you put into your work, in the other aspects of your life as well.” He sighs, folding his hands neatly over each other on the table, his thin glasses sliding down a little on his nose as he settles his gaze on Lance. “And as for your friend, it’s come to our attention that the two of you come as sort of a… package deal.”

“Well, yeah, Hunk’s my best friend, but that doesn’t mean he should be punished for _my_ mistakes!”

The old guy sighs again, like that’s the only thing he knows how to do, and he puts on this fake-polite smile to go along with his fake-polite voice as he says, “Let me rephrase myself. It’s to our understanding that Mr. Garrett is, in a way, _responsible_ for you.”

“Responsible for me?” Lance echoes, eyes narrowing as he sits up straighter in his chair, his lips twisting into an angry scowl. “What- what is that supposed to mean? Are you saying I can’t take care of myself? I can’t go anywhere or do anything without someone looking after me? Is that it?”

“Mr. McClain, that’s not-”

“No, that’s _exactly_ what you’re saying!” Lance growls at him, pushing himself out of his seat hard enough to make the chair fall back, making the guy jump a little in his seat. He shakes his head, his finger pointing sharply at the Director, and he says lowly, “I don’t need your help. I don’t need Hunk’s help. I don’t need _anyone’s_ help, and I definitely don’t need a fucking _babysitter_.”

It’s only after he storms out of the office, blood boiling in his veins, face burning red and eyes stinging with tears again, that he realises just how wrong he is, and how right everyone else is. Just look at him, crying and throwing tantrums when things don’t go his way, like the little baby he is.

It’s only then that Lance realises that maybe he does need to grow up. He just doesn't know how.

—

Keith had been released early the next morning, only to find not Shiro, but Allura waiting for him outside the station, a cup of coffee in her hand and a warm smile on her lips. Despite his bad mood, he had let her hug him, though his own arms stayed limp by his sides and he had even let her lead him to her car, reluctantly strapping himself into the passenger seat only because he knew she wouldn’t give him the coffee otherwise.

That’s how he found himself sitting on her living room couch a half hour later, the coffee slowly growing cold in his hands as he stares at the floor, all while she stares at him, neither of them knowing what to say to each other.

“Shiro couldn’t make it,” Allura says eventually, her hands clasped together in her lap, her voice as calm and steady as it always is. “He told me to tell you that he's sorry, and that he’ll see you after work.”

Keith scoffs, muttering a low, “Typical,” under his breath, but Allura hears it anyway, her lips pursing as she cocks her head to the side.

“He’s trying, Keith,” she tells him, the soothing tone of her voice unchanging, though the strained look on her face tells him different. “You know he is.” 

“Right, right.” He clicks his tongue, putting the cup on the table because if he lets his grip tighten anymore, he’s afraid he might just crush it. He leans back, arms crossing over his chest lazily and he mirrors Allura’s expression, eyebrow arched. “Sending his girlfriend to do all his dirty work is _definitely_ ‘trying’.”

Allura’s face tightens even more and she breathes in deeply, silently counting to three before she breathes out and answers, “Please don’t speak of me like that's all I am. You and I both know that I’m not. I’m trying to help you just as much as Shiro is, and I care about you just as much as well. We’re both here for you, we’re both fighting for _you_ , just like we’ve always been. And you may not like it, you may not feel that you need it, but soon you’ll see that it’s for your own good. Maybe you're too young to understand it now but-”

“Too young?” Keith shoots up from where he was slumping into the seat, teeth bared behind snarling lips as his eyes narrow into sharp slits, his gaze piercing hers icily. “What do you mean I’m too young? I’m only three years younger than you! _Three!_ So, quit treating me like I’m just some- some _kid_ , like I don’t know what I’m doing with my life. Shit’s hard enough as it is, okay? I don’t need you parenting me too.”

“Keith, I’m not-”

“Yes, Allura, you are!” he snaps at her, his body towering over her as he takes a daunting step forward, stormy eyes glaring down at her. “Both of you are! All the damn time. Look, you're not my mother. Shiro’s not my father. I never had any fucking parents, and I _definitely_ don't need any now.”

It’s only after Allura starts to slowly back away from him, a mix of hurt and fear and disappointment flashing across her features, that he realises just how wrong he is, and how right everyone else is. There he is, making everything about him when he knows they feel the exact same way he does, like the selfish prick he is. 

It's only then that Keith realises that maybe he does need to wake up. He just doesn't know how.

—

“I got it!” Lance races to where Hunk is lazily flipping through the crappy channels on the half-broken tv, excitement bubbling up inside him as he waves the flyer in Hunk’s face. “Buddy, look at this! It's _perfect_. Right outside campus, so we can take the bus to classes, or even bike there, if we want. So much space, inside _and_ outside, so you’d have a place to work on all your wacky projects. Plus, just imagine the kind of parties we could throw! We would be legends, you hear me? _Legends_. Just you and me, champ. And...” Lance pauses for effect, revealing the numbers at the bottom of the paper, whistling lowly. “Look at that price. Now, that is a sweet deal. A sweet, sweet deal.”

For the first time in days, Hunk smiles at him. Fucking grins, more like, as he holds out his large hand, Lance's own palm grasping it almost immediately in an all too familiar grip. And when Hunk says, “You and me, buddy,” Lance knows that they’re well and truly back to being the duo that is Hunk and Lance, and man, does it feel good.

—

“This is it!” Keith gets up from the mountain of papers surrounding him, crossing the room to where Shiro’s thumbing through the day’s newspaper, exhilaration spreading through his veins as he puts the flyer down in front of him. “Take a look at this, man. This is _exactly_ what we need. It's a little way out of the area, but close enough so that we can both get to work, no problem. A bunch of rooms and stuff, so you could turn one into an office, and I could use the garage for my bike. It’d be _so_ much better than living in a cramped up apartment. We’d be out there, on our own, you know? Just you and me, brother. And the best part?” He points at the digits printed on the bottom of the page. “There's no better price than that. That is a good bargain. A really, really good bargain.”

For the first time in days, Shiro smiles at him. Fucking beams, really, as he pulls him in for a hug, his grip firm on the back of Keith’s neck to remind him that he’s there. And when Shiro says, “You and me, brother,” Keith knows that Shiro’s always gonna be there, always on his side, and man, does it feel good.

—

Lance and Hunk find their way to the old mansion the next day, hoping to seal the deal before anyone else gets their hands on it, the two boys almost hopping with excitement as they bound up the large driveway, eyes going wide as their gazes land on everything and anything around them.

“ _Dude_.”

“ _I_ _know_.”

Lance lets out a bright laugh, grinning wickedly as he turns to Hunk, an eyebrow cocked perfectly on his forehead and he says, “Race you to the porch?”

Surprisingly, Hunk smirks back at him. “You’re on, McClain.”

He uses Lance’s moment of shock as a head start, his feet kicking up dirt as he runs ahead, leaving Lance chasing after him, his long legs stretching over the grass to catch up to his friend, the two of them clawing at each other to slow the other down, screaming battle cries along the way and they end up tripping over their own feet, landing in a heap on the wooden porch with a loud bang.

Lance is laughing, or wheezing, really, what with the way his breath is running out, and he’s about to challenge Hunk to another race when he suddenly hears, “What the hell?”

—

Keith and Shiro drive up to the old mansion bright and early the next morning, not wanting to risk losing it to anyone else, the two brothers feeling eager as they walk up the driveway side-by-side, marvelling at the sight of the vast space.

“ _Whoa_.”

“ _I know_.”

Keith’s face splits into a grin, turning to Shiro with a smug little look, saying, “I think this is the best idea I’ve ever had.”

Surprisingly, Shiro laughs, nodding his head. “I think so too, kiddo.”

He throws an arm around Keith’s shoulders, ruffling his hair and earning a groan from the younger boy as they lead each other up to the front porch, feeling an odd wave of nostalgia, like they were suddenly kids again, moving to a new home and they stop just outside the door, looking at each other like they both knew exactly what they were feeling and Keith’s about to say something when he hears some sort of scuffling coming from behind them, and — was someone _screaming?_

Keith doesn't get another moment to think about it because there's suddenly two bodies hurtling towards them, crashing into the porch in a mess of tangled limbs. One of them starts laughing, or choking, Keith isn’t entirely sure and all he can say is, “What the hell?”

—

Lance scrambles to his feet, his hands running all over his body in an attempt to straighten himself out, trying to look half-decent at least, until- “Hey! You’re not the lady I talked to on the phone yesterday.” He perches his hands on his hips, frowning at the two guys standing in front of him. “Who are you?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” the smaller one snaps at him, his arms crossed tightly in an attempt to look threatening and honestly, Lance wants to flick him.

Before either of them can say anything else, the taller – and presumably older – one steps in front, holding out a hand that Lance takes, as he says, “I’m Takashi Shirogane.” Lance must’ve blinked, because he adds, “But you can call me Shiro.” He jerks his head back to the other guy. “That’s my brother, Keith Kogane.”

Lance notes the different names, but doesn't comment on it just yet, instead giving Shiro’s hand a firm shake before he introduces himself, a hand on his chest as he says, “I’m Lance.” He pauses. “McClain. Lance McClain. And this,” he pats Hunk’s shoulder, “is my buddy, Hunk Garrett.”

“Good to meet you, Lance,” Shiro nods a head at him, and at Hunk. “Hunk.” He sneaks a glance behind him, where Keith is just staring daggers into the two of them and he turns back, flashing an apologetic smile. “Don’t mind him. He’s not good with strangers.”

Lance nods, shooting a sharp look at the boy before he focuses on Shiro, rubbing his hands together. “So, are you guys with the real estate agency or…?”

Shiro gives him a look, confusion lacing his features as his head shakes slowly. “No, uh, we’re here to buy the place.”

“That’s funny,” Lance says, his voice hesitant, eyebrows furrowing. “Because so are we.”

That gets Keith’s attention, the angry boy almost shoving Shiro out of the way to step up to Lance, and it’s only now that he’s inches away from Lance that he realises that whatever Keith lacks in size, he makes up for in personality, his mere presence making Lance want to take a step back, but he holds his ground, chin jutting out.

“No way,” Keith growls, his jaw set so tightly that Lance can practically see the muscles jumping under his skin. “It’s ours.”

Lance pretends to take a look around, humming. “I don’t see your name on it, so, no, mister,” he jabs a finger at Keith. “I don’t think it's yours at all.”

“Well, then, it's not _yours_ either!”

“I never said it was!”

“Yeah, but you _implied_ -”

“Don’t put words in my mouth!”

“I wasn’t-”

“ _Hey_ ,” Shiro’s voice cuts through theirs, his body coming in between them to keep them apart, a hand on both of their chests. “Easy now.” He shoots Keith a pointed look, and Keith returns it with a silent nod, and when he gives Lance the same look, Lance flashes a half-assed smile. When he’s certain the two boys will behave, he lets go of them, taking in a deep breath. “Look, obviously, there's been some kind of misunderstanding, but I’m sure we can talk it out, like civilized people.”

“Of course,” Hunk agrees, and he digs an elbow into Lance’s side, the skinny boy yelping, before saying, “Yeah, totally.”

Shiro turns to Keith, who shrugs, muttering a, “Whatever,” under his breath. He sighs, tired lines lacing his skin and he says, “When we called the realtor yesterday, she told us that no one else was interested in buying, so we could just swing by today and the place would be ours.”

“That’s the same thing she said to us,” Hunk replies, his face scrunching up a little. “Like, _literally_ , those exact words. Remember, Lance?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. It was like-” Lance clears his throat, switching to this giddy, high-pitched voice to say, “‘ _Well alrighty then, boys, just swing by tomorrow and the place is yours!_ ’”

Shiro’s eyebrows raise in surprise, a funny look on his face, while Keith does the opposite, a confused frown tugging at his lips and Hunk snorts, patting Lance’s back. “Don’t mind him. He’s a drama student.” Hunk pauses, rethinking his words. “Well, _technically_ , he’s a math major. But he _loves_ drama. As in theatre. But also real life drama. He’s just really dramatic, all the time. Like _really_ -”

“O- _kay_ ,” Lance laughs, clamping a hand over Hunk’s mouth. “Thank you for that enlightening introduction no one asked for, Hunk. Now, back to the real topic at hand. Shiro?”

“You guys go to college here?” Shiro asks instead, despite Lance’s obvious attempt to drop the topic, but he looks genuinely curious so Lance sighs, answering, “Yeah, that's why we chose this place. It’s right outside campus.”

“Why don’t you just stay in the dorms?” Keith asks suddenly, arching an eyebrow at Lance, a bored expression on his face, like he’d rather be anywhere but here.

“Because-” Lance falters, while Hunk squirms uncomfortably beside him, giving him this _look_ , and Lance's face hardens, huffing, “That's none of your business. Why don’t _you_ go stay in the dorms?”

“Because I don't go to college, Einstein,” Keith retorts, rolling his eyes so far back that Lance wishes they’d stay stuck there. “And neither does Shiro, if you couldn’t tell by the wrinkles.”

“I, for one, believe that you can never be too old to get an education,” Hunk pipes up from Lance’s side, then he frowns. “Not- not that I’m saying you look old, Shiro! Definitely not. ‘Cause you don’t, like, at all.” 

“Yeah, Shiro, you’re super hot!” Lance adds, earning him pointed stares from each of them. He gapes, “ _What?_ He is!” He looks at Shiro. “You are!”

Keith grumbles something under his breath, something that Lance doesn’t entirely recognise, and when Shiro hisses something back, Lance realises it's a different language. _Huh_. Lance clears his throat, grabbing both their attentions and he awkwardly waves a hand between them. “Not to interrupt this _fascinating_ conversation that I don’t understand – which, by the way, is Japanese, right? – but we really, _really_ need this house. We have nowhere else to go.”

“You think you're the only one?” Keith hisses, eyes narrowed, lips scowling. “Huh? You think we’d be here if we had somewhere to go?” 

“But you could go anywhere!” Lance spreads his arms for effect. “We’re here for school, you’re not. You could find _any_ other place. It's not like you need such a big house for just two people anyway.” 

Keith shoots him a look then, a harsh scoff escaping his throat and his tone is quite obviously condescending when he spits, “In case you forgot how to count, _baka_ , there’s only two of you too. And here I thought you were supposed to be a math genius.”

That shuts Lance up, for once, his jaw hanging open in silence, because it hits him like a ton of bricks, and Lance doesn’t know a lot of Japanese, but the word – _that one word_ – stings in his ears, and he hates it, hates that some stranger’s comments could hurt him this much, even though he knows that they don’t mean anything and he doesn't know why. He doesn't know why, doesn't understand, and he hates it.

But before he can dwell on it any longer, Keith is closing the space between them, his finger suddenly hooking under Lance’s chin, making him shiver, and he tells himself it's just because he's afraid, that the tingles he feels from Keith’s touch come from fear. _Get a grip, Lance._ “It doesn’t matter anyway,” he says slowly, drawing Lance’s attention to him, dark eyes on Lance's soft ones and with a sharp push, Keith forces his mouth shut, his fingernail digging into his skin just barely. “Because we were here first.”

And as if things couldn't get any worse, they hear a voice behind them say, “Actually... _we_ were here first.” 

—

“In case you forgot how to count, _baka_ , there’s only two of you too. And here I thought you were supposed to be a math genius,” Keith sneers at him, noticing the heavy sarcasm in his voice, but he ignores it, far too comfortable with his own skewed sense of humour.

But for the first time, Lance is left speechless, his mouth gaping slightly, brown eyes blinking, and Keith doesn’t like it, doesn’t like the way he's just staring, silent, like a wounded puppy, like Keith’s words had actually hurt him. So before the guy starts bursting into tears, Keith takes a step towards him, closer than necessary, really, and he doesn't know why, he really doesn't, but his finger somehow finds its way under Lance’s chin, and he feels him shiver under his touch, and he tells himself it's because he's cold, and Lance is warm. _So_ warm. He shakes his head a little. _Get a grip, Keith._ “It doesn't matter anyway,” he hears himself say, in hopes that it’ll distract Lance from his previous words, his eyes searching Lance’s and when he feels himself slipping, he quickly snaps the boy’s mouth shut, grazing his skin just slightly. “Because we were here first.”

His finger lingers on Lance a little longer than it has to, but before Keith can embarrass himself even more, there's a voice saying, “Actually… _we_ were here first.”

Startled, Keith almost jumps away, yanking his hand back like Lance’s skin suddenly burned and he backs away into Shiro, who steadies him and gives him a look that he can't quite understand, so he averts his gaze, focusing on the small figure now at the bottom of the porch.

“Who the hell are you?” Keith asks, trying his best to keep his voice steady, ignoring his heart hammering in his chest.

“Pidge Gunderson,” the kid answers, and he's not kidding when he says ‘kid’, a tiny hand outstretched for Keith to take and when he just stares at it, eyebrow arched, the kid frowns.

“I’m Shiro.” Shiro leans forward to shake Pidge’s hand before the kid can pull it back. “This is Keith, Lance and Hunk.” Keith keeps his gaze cool, while the other two offer awkward waves, and Pidge nods in return. Shiro straightens up, clearing his throat a little. “So, uh, what do you mean by you were here first?”

“I mean, we’ve been scouting this place out for weeks,” Pidge answers, then jerks a thumb down the driveway. “By we, I mean my brother, Matt, and I.”

The four of them look past Pidge to see two figures coming up the driveway, one that looks like a taller, carbon copy of Pidge, and another that looks like-

“ _You!_ ” Keith points to the lady next to Matt, recognising her face – platinum hair, phony grin and all – from the flyer. “You’re the one we talked to on the phone!”

Lance gasps, his arm shooting out to wag an accusing finger at her as well, a dirty look on his face when he says, “You have a _lot_ of explaining to do, lady.”

The realtor – Claire, if he remembers correctly – seems to freeze in her spot, obviously not expecting to see all of them in the same place at once and her flashy smile falters for a second before it brightens up again, her small body surging forward with an unnatural bounce of excitement.

“You’re all here!” she says, clapping her hands together as she climbs the porch, heels tapping against the old wood. “How wonderful! It’s so nice to meet-” 

“Oh, cut the crap, lady,” Keith interrupts, crossing his arms over his chest, mouth curled down. “We’ve wasted enough time here so you're gonna tell all of us now, _right now_ , why you told us this place wasn't of any interest to anyone else when it clearly is.” 

“Well, I-” She lets out a small huff, and just like that, the whole façade falls away completely, as if everything just suddenly lost its shine, and she looks ten times younger than she did a moment ago. She turns to each and every one of them, desperation clear in her eyes, before she focuses on Keith again. “Okay, look, it _was_ the truth, sort of. The thing is, I’ve been trying to sell this place for a long time, a _really_ long time, and no one’s been interested, until you guys. And I couldn’t risk losing any potential customers, so I told all of you that the house was yours, in case any of you decided to back out at the last minute.” She holds up a finger before Keith can say anything. “Do not give me that look. I know that it was wrong and completely unprofessional of me, but the industry is rough and this place was supposed to be my big break, you know? And I just… I didn’t know what else to do.”

Keith is upset, definitely, but he knows all too well the feeling of desperation that she’s going through, he feels it burning inside him as well. He knows what it’s like to feel like you have no other choice, and when he takes a look around, catching glimpses of Shiro’s sad smile, of Lance’s fallen gaze, of Hunk’s hand on Claire’s shoulder, he knows they feel it as well. He knows they understand. So he sighs, running a hand over his face, through his hair, before cracking his version of a sympathetic smile, saying, “We get it. You did what you had to.” 

Claire’s face bursts into relief, the young woman apologising and thanking them over and over. Until she realises something, frowning. “But where will you go?”

Keith blinks, unsure how to answer that, because he hadn’t anticipated the fact that the house might not be theirs to keep, and it seems no one else did either.

“I don’t know about you guys,” Hunk says eventually, gesturing at Keith and Shiro. “But, uh, me and Lance’ll figure it out. Or at least, Lance will. He owes me.”

“Hunk!” Lance hisses, smacking the guy’s chest, giving him the evil eye. “That's between us, man.”

Huh. So it _is_ Lance’s fault that they're not allowed to stay in the dorms. Figures. Then Keith silently curses himself, reminded that he's also the reason he and Shiro aren't allowed to go back to the apartment either. And he should handle it, he really should, but he just looks over at Shiro, who sighs.

“We’ll find some place else too,” he says, disappointment evident in his tone. “It's fine.” 

They're about to make their leave when suddenly Pidge says, “Or you could stay. All of you.”

“ _What?_ ” They all stare at Pidge with wide eyes and raised eyebrows, Matt included. Then Pidge and Matt are talking, or at least that's what Keith thinks it is, their voices too similar and their words too quick for him to make anything of it. It goes on for a minute or two, until eventually Matt throws his hands up in defeat, Pidge looking awfully smug.

“There's room for all of us,” Pidge says, matter-of-factly, skinny shoulders shrugging forward. “And the way I see it, the more people we’ve got to split the cost with, the cheaper it’ll be.” Pidge leans forward, not-so-subtly jerking a thumb in Matt’s direction, fake-whispering, “And between us, it’d get pretty boring just living with this loser.”

That gets a snort out of Lance, and almost immediately, he shouts, “I’m in!” He turns to Hunk, hand outstretched. “Bud?”

“The more the merrier,” Hunk chimes, clapping his hand onto Lance’s, bumping his other fist with Pidge’s and they all laugh like they’ve known each other forever, and Keith wonders how they do that, how it's so _easy_ for them.

He doesn’t get to think about it much longer because they turn to him and Shiro right then, expectant looks on all their faces.

“What do you say?” Pidge asks, smiling hopefully.

Keith gulps, his mouth suddenly going dry, not knowing how to say anything at all so he turns to Shiro, hoping that he’ll understand his unspoken words. _This was supposed to be our place,_ he tries to say, eyes dark and wide. _Just you and me, remember?_

Shiro gives him a look, one that meant, _I know but…_

Keith groans in frustration. “Come on, Shiro! These people are strangers!” he hisses under his breath, low enough for only Shiro to hear. “We don’t _know_ them and you want to _live_ with them?”

“Everyone’s a stranger when you first meet them-”

“Oh, don’t spit your psychobabble at me!” Keith’s chest heaves, nostrils flaring. “I am not one of your fucking patients!”

Something in Shiro snaps, Keith sees it in his face and he gasps when Shiro grabs the collar of his jacket, tugging him close, his eyes flashing a shade darker than usual. “No, Keith, you’re my brother _and_ you're the reason we’re in this mess in the first place, so you're gonna get us out of it by saying yes. You hear me?”

Keith hears him, loud and clear, and he hates it, hates that he makes Shiro this way, because he knows that's it's only him who can get under his skin this bad and he doesn't know why. He doesn't know why, doesn't understand, and he hates it.

“Keith, do you hear me or not?” Shiro asks again when Keith doesn't say anything, and it takes a moment, but eventually Keith nods, and Shiro lets him go. Keith shuts his eyes and counts to ten, breathing in, breathing out, then he turns around to face them; Shiro, Lance, Hunk, Pidge and Matt.

Sighing, Keith quirks a half-assed smile, saying, “I guess we're moving in together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it might be a little confusing now, but backstories will be coming, so let me know what you think and whether you'd like me to continue the story. Any and all feedback is always welcome!
> 
> you can find me on twitter (@neilljosten) if you ever wanna say hi!


	2. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is here! Just a fair warning: I'm in college and I have a bunch of tests coming up so I can't promise that I'll be able to update on a certain schedule, it'll be more like whenever I get the time so I hope you guys understand. For those who read the first chapter before I edited it, please take note that I changed some stuff regarding Pidge's introduction, so as of now, it's Pidge and Matt Gunderson. This hasn't been proofread so any and all mistakes are my own. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Lance didn’t think he would ever hear anything worse than Keith saying, “I guess we're moving in together.” But man, was he wrong. _So_ , so wrong. Because after remembering something about the house, Pidge stands in the doorway, face distraught, saying, “We have a slight problem.”

Keith is the first to groan, and Lance is close enough to him to hear him mutter, “I knew this was a bad idea.” And it takes every ounce of self control in him to stop himself from calling him out on it, from telling him he should be grateful that they're even here at all, from saying that if it's such a bad idea, maybe he should just leave. But Lance isn’t all that great with self control, or any kind of control at all, really, so the words slip out of his mouth before he even realises it and, “ _Oh God_. I totally just said all that out loud, didn’t I?”

The way Keith glares at him right then gives him his answer, and he gulps, but he doesn't take back what he said. Instead, he straightens his shoulders and says, “But seriously, _Keith_ ,” emphasising his name with a jab of his finger at the guy’s chest, “if you don't wanna be here, then just go.” He cocks his head to the side, looking past the boy to shoot a cheeky smirk at the other brother, adding, “But _you_ are definitely welcome to stay, Shiro.”

Shiro gives him a look, a mix between amusement and embarrassment, close to rolling his eyes as he answers, “Thanks, Lance, but, uh,” he stretches an arm around Keith’s shoulders, “where Keith goes, I go, and where I go, he goes. You know?”

Lance takes a moment to look over the two brothers, eyes narrowing, noticing how Keith seems a lot calmer with Shiro by his side, like he's somehow holding him down. _Like an anchor_ , Lance thinks, and for a moment, it reminds him of Hunk and himself. And before he knows it, his gaze softens, a small smile tugging at his lips and his voice is quiet when he says, “I know.”

“Okay… Lance’s unsubtle flirting and odd emo moment aside,” Pidge mutters suddenly, hands clapping together to get everyone’s attention. “Can we talk about the _real_ issue here?”

“Which is…?”

“There’s five rooms,” Pidge says simply, and it doesn’t sound all too bad, until-

“ _Oh._ ” It hits him. “There’s six of us.”

“So you _can_ count,” Keith scoffs suddenly, mockery clear in his voice, but a quick, “Not now,” from Shiro silences him and he backs away to go brood in his lonesome.

Lance ignores them both in favour of turning Pidge’s words over in his head, considering the situation. Five rooms, six people. Obviously, someone had to share. It was either that or someone had to take the couch - _did they even have a couch?_ \- and he doubts any of them would want to do that, so sharing it is. But _who?_ Lance personally wouldn’t mind bunking with Hunk, because they’d been roommates for so long, it’d hardly be any different here, but the question is: did Hunk mind? After all, he’d promised the guy space, all the space he wanted, to do whatever he wanted. His _own_ space after so many years of sharing with Lance. But now that they’re stuck in this situation, that promise is gone and the least he could do is give Hunk his own room.

“Since the house is in _my_ name and none of you would even be here without my kindness and generosity,” Matt speaks up then, addressing the rest of them directly for the first time that morning, a smug look on his face. “I take it we all wholeheartedly agree that I get one of those rooms for myself.”

Lance wants to say something, his mouth already opening, but realising he’s in no position to argue, he shuts his mouth and settles for a tight smile and an even tighter nod, the other boys following suit. Well, except Keith, who just scowls at the guy, looking like he’s two seconds away from slapping that smirk right off his face, and Lance doesn’t know if he should be worried that he’ll actually do it or impressed that he hasn’t done it already. Then he wonders why he’s bothered about what Keith might or might not do. He wonders why he’s bothered about Keith at all.

Lance tries not to think about Keith, but trying _not_ to think about him only makes him do exactly that, and he’s confused. He’s even more confused when Pidge says, “Since I’m a girl _and_ the genius who came up with this idea in the first place, I’m getting my own room too,” because, _what?_

“You’re a _girl?_ ”

Hunk smacks his arm almost immediately, like a reflex, shooting him a look so sharp it could cut him, eyes wide in warning. “Lance-” he starts, but Lance is already looking Pidge up and down, face screwing up in confusion by the second.

“ _You?_ A girl? Really?” he asks shamelessly, and Hunk groans, smacking his own forehead. Lance turns to the others. “Did you guys know she’s a girl?”

He gets shrugs and small mumbles of “I guess” and “I don’t care” in return, and he just scoffs, looking over at Pidge again, wondering how he didn’t see it, because _honestly_. “Okay, are you _sure_ because-”

He doesn’t get to finish because Hunk claps a hand over his mouth, muffling the rest of his words and he shoots an apologetic look at Pidge. “Please ignore my friend. He’s an idiot and- _Ew, Lance!_ Did you just _lick_ my hand?”

Pidge blinks, looking between the two boys, and there's a pained expression on her face when she turns to Shiro. “Remind me why I thought living with a bunch of boys would be a good idea.”

“I don’t think I have a good answer for that,” Shiro laughs, and Pidge sighs a little too loudly.

“You two won’t be like…” She sneaks a glance at Hunk and Lance, who are now pulling each other into headlocks. “... _that_ , will you?”

Shiro holds his fingers up in a mock salute. “I promise I’ll be on my best behaviour, Scout’s honour, but…” He looks over at Keith, before turning back to Pidge and leaning down to whisper, “He has his moments.”

Pidge snorts. “I can tell.” Then, “What about you? Are you planning on sharing or…?”

Shiro hums, tension in his shoulders and he looks like he's torn between wanting his own space and sticking with Keith, but eventually he says, “Between late nights at work and my girlfriend, I was sort of hoping to get the downstairs room for myself, so I won’t bother anyone when I’m going in and out.”

“Fair enough,” Pidge agrees, then arches an eyebrow at Keith. “But, is _he_ gonna be okay with-”

“Hunk wants his own room!” Lance announces suddenly, finally worming his way out Hunk’s strong hold and his skinny body flings itself away, landing just short of where Keith was standing, and Lance yelps, shuffling away a little to make sure he doesn't come near him. He pulls himself together, breathing heavily. “He’s way too modest to say it himself, but he does want his own room.” He straightens up, arching an eyebrow at his friend. “Admit it, Hunk.”

Hunk gapes for a moment, his face going red as he stammers, “Well, I- I mean, I don’t _mind_ sharing, but it would be nice, if I could- I don’t know-” He scratches the back of his neck. “I kinda need space to work on my projects, so you know-”

“Hunk,” Pidge cuts in, holding a tiny hand up to silence him. “The room is yours.”

Hunk beams, mumbling a thank you and Pidge nods in return, counting off the taken rooms in her head. “Then that leaves…”

—

Keith didn’t think he would ever hear anything worse than Lance saying, “There’s six of us.” But man, was he wrong. _So_ , so wrong. Because after realising all but one room was occupied, Pidge turns to face the them, face amused, saying, “... _you two._ ”

Lance is the first to react, and Keith is far too close to him not to wince when he screams, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!” And it takes every mild-tempered fibre of his being to keep himself from telling the guy off, from saying he should just calm the fuck down, from telling him not to be such a goddamn drama queen all the time. But Keith’s temper has always been far from mild, so before he knows it, the bitter words are spewing from his mouth and, “ _Shit._ You just heard everything I said, didn’t you?”

The way Lance’s nostrils flare as his hands perch themselves on his hips tells him that he _did_ hear him, so Keith recoils a little, but he stands firm with his words. “Really, though, _Lance_ ,” he hisses his name a little harsher than he needs to. “It doesn't even have anything to do with you, so why don't you just chill?” He turns to face Shiro, shrugging his shoulders lightly, saying, “Guess you're still stuck with me, roomie.”

Shiro’s lips part, stuck between confusion and hesitation, and he shoots a wide-eyed glance at Pidge, who just lifts her shoulders in answer and he swallows thickly, turning back to Keith with this tight smile that makes him look a little constipated, to be honest. “Keith, uh, what Pidge meant by ‘you two’ was you…” He points at Keith, then at the boy next to him. “And Lance.”

Keith freezes. Him and Lance? _Him_ and _Lance?_ Lance with his loud, no-filter mouth, and his aggravating, melodramatic personality, and his stupid, handsome face- “No,” he hears himself say suddenly, the word cutting sharply through the tense silence that had fallen around them, and he shakes his head firmly. “No way. Not happening.”

“Keith-”

“I said, _no!_ ” he snaps, lips snarling, eyes blazing, chest heaving and he hears a small ‘hmph!’ coming from his left.

“Look who’s being a drama queen now,” Lance chimes, making faces at him, but Hunk elbows his side, muttering a, “Knock it off, dude,” that shuts him up immediately.

Keith tunes them out, turning his back to them to process the situation and there’s all kinds of alarms going off in his head, because no, no, no, _no!_ He’s had enough of sharing rooms with boys who don’t understand the meaning of personal space, boys that’ll bother him and provoke him and get under his skin, boys who could make him _feel_ things that he shouldn’t feel. At least if he was roomed with Shiro, he wouldn't have to worry about it because he’d never think of Shiro in that way, never in a million years. So he’d much rather be stuck with Shiro than be forced to stay with anyone else, especially Lance, of all people, but it's obvious that Shiro doesn't feel the same way.

“When did you decide you were gonna get your own room?” he asks, and he doesn't even have to turn his head for them to realise that he's talking to Shiro.

“Well, I-”

“I agreed to it,” he hears Pidge answer instead, her voice surprisingly loud for someone so small. “While these two clowns were choking each other to death and you were zoning out, being all emo by yourself.”

Keith sucks in a breath of air, holds it, and holds it, and holds it, only letting go when his knuckles turn white from where he's gripping the porch railing too hard. He knows he can’t blame Shiro for wanting his own space, for wanting this one thing for himself, because he deserves it after all. He’s always put Keith first, and maybe it's time that Keith does the same for him.

“I think it's fair actually,” Matt says, even though they’ve all made it pretty clear that they don’t really care what he thinks. Either he doesn't notice it, or he's chosen to ignore it, and with the way his arms settle over his chest as he leans against the wall, cocking a knowing eyebrow at them, it's probably the latter. “From what I can tell, you two are the reason why you're all here, no? It's your fault that you have nowhere else to go, isn’t it?”

A venomous remark is already on the tip of Keith's tongue, but realising that the guy wasn’t exactly wrong, he swallows his words bitterly, shooting him a passive look instead, one that doesn't say yes, but doesn't say no either. And the others do the same, mumbling quietly under their breath, refusing to agree or disagree with him. Well, except Lance, who looks like he's itching to just pick the tiny guy up by his ear tips and fling him far, far away where he can’t bother them, and Keith isn’t sure whether he’s more eager to see if he’ll actually do it or disappointed to know that he definitely wouldn’t. Then he wonders why he’s concerned about what Lance might or might not do. He wonders why he's concerned about Lance at all.

Keith tries to push Lance from his mind, but somehow he ends up right smack in the middle of his thoughts again and again, and Keith is confused. He's even more confused when Pidge says, “As much as I hate to agree with my brother, I picked up on the same vibe, and since technically you’ll each be getting only half a room, maybe we could cut your part of the rent by half too,” because _seriously?_

“You're trying to bribe us?”

Shiro shoots him a look, as if sensing the tone in his voice, his head shaking slowly as he says, “Keith…” But it's too late, a dirty scowl already twisting Keith’s features as he takes a step towards Pidge, looming over her.

“Bribery? Really, kid? What kind of people do you think we are?” Keith hisses, the ice in his voice cold enough to kill and Shiro sighs in defeat. He looks over his shoulder at the other two, asking, “Are you guys hearing this?”

The two boys just cough, scratching the backs of their necks awkwardly, avoiding his question completely, and he rolls his eyes in frustration, turning back to Pidge with an even fiercer gaze. “Is that what we look like to you? A bunch of cheap-”

They don’t hear the rest of what he has to say because Shiro grabs him by the arm and yanks him away so roughly that even he looks surprised, his words getting lost in the sudden movement and Shiro mouths a sorry to Pidge, saying, “Please excuse my brother. He can get a little sensitive- _Keith!_ Don’t scratch me!”

Pidge’s face turns sour as she pushes her glasses up, watching as Shiro drags Keith away, sounding just a touch worried when she asks Hunk, “Do you think he's always like that?”

“I don't wanna be that guy,” Hunk says hesitantly, teeth bared awkwardly. “But yeah, I do think so.” And Pidge laughs, face brightening a little.

“But, um, you guys don’t argue like…” She jerks her head to the far end of the porch where the two brothers are drowning each other out in a flurry of heated English and Japanese. “... _them_ , do you?”

Hunks blows out through his lips, sighing heavily. “To be honest, I’m a peace and love kind of guy so I try not to argue at all, but you know…” His eyes flicker over to Lance for a moment, before landing back on Pidge’s. “Sometimes he gets me a little too riled up.”

“I get that,” Pidge mumbles, humming in understanding. She clears her throat, standing up a little straighter. “So, uh, what do you think of the whole sharing thing? Are we being reasonable or…”

“Yeah! Yeah, totally,” Hunk agrees, nodding his head quickly. “I mean, they’d get to share the biggest room, right? And splitting their part of the rent seems fair enough, which, by the way, is a really, _really_ nice thing for you guys to do, despite what some people might think. So, yeah, I think it's cool.”

“Good,” Pidge breathes out, relief ringing clear in her voice, but then her gaze slides over to Lance. “But does _he_ agree-”

“ _Shimeta, Shiro!_ ” Keith growls suddenly, his voice so harsh that it makes the rest of them jump at the sound of it and they look over just quickly enough to see him glaring up at Shiro for another second before he gives up, his body slumping back as his energy leaves him and Shiro does the same, the tired lines in his face more obvious than ever.

“Fine,” he repeats in English, his voice bitter and reluctant, and though he’d rather be anywhere else in the world than with these strangers, he looks up at them anyway, looks up at _him_ , quartz eyes locking onto Lance’s brown ones and he says, “I’ll share.”

—

The house isn’t as glamorous as it seemed on the outside, the floor creaking as soon as they step inside, old dust clouding around them and Pidge coughs. The place is completely bare, no furniture, no lights, nothing.

“No wonder it was so cheap,” she mutters under her breath, frowning a little. “It’s... _nothing_.”

“I told you we should’ve gone somewhere else,” Matt grumbles, mostly to himself, really. “But, _oh_ _no_ , no one ever listens to Matt.” He sighs loudly, but when no one even spares him a glance, he says, “Whatever. I’m gonna go wait outside.”

Pidge waves him off and she turns to the others, hands rubbing together. “Look, I know it's not… _much_ , but it's home now and we’ll make it work.”

Keith scoffs at that and Lance looks doubtful, but Shiro and Hunk nod at her in reassurance, smiling kindly, and that's enough for her.

“We’re gonna have to split up though,” she tells them, her thinking face on as she wanders around the place, the boys trailing behind her. “Matt and I will figure out the furniture, appliances. Shiro and Keith… Tools? Electricity?” She pauses, eyebrows raised in question. “ _Plumbing?_ ”

“You got it,” Shiro answers, and he nudges Keith, who jerks his chin in agreement, taking that as his cue to leave, and Shiro hurries after him, calling out a quick, “Bye!”

Pidge turns back to find Lance’s face caught in a cobweb, Hunk carefully trying to get it off of him while trying not to laugh and she can’t help but roll her eyes.

“Hey, losers!” They almost jump out of their skin, startled at the echoing voice, looking sheepish when they face Pidge. “You two think you can handle getting the kitchen supplies?”

“What, like, food?” Hunk asks excitedly, eyes lighting up.

“I was thinking more along the lines of pots and pans…” Hunk’s face falls, so Pidge sighs, lifting a shoulder. “But sure, groceries would be good too.”

“Awesome!” Hunk grins, then sees Lance still choking on the cobweb and he coughs to mask his snort, but Lance is starting to whine, so he decides they should get going, half-waving at Pidge, half-clawing at Lance’s face as they walk out the door.

Pidge is left standing in the middle of the empty living room on her own, and she suddenly feels a lot smaller than usual, feels like she's suffocating, like the house is closing in on her, like it doesn’t want her to be there, like it’s telling her to leave. Then she blinks, and the house is just a house again. Except it's not just a house, it’s-

“ _Home_.”

Pidge spins around, finding Matt leaning against the door frame, the ghost of a sad, crooked smile on his lips and she can breathe again.

“Yeah, Matt,” she says. “We’re finally home.”

—

Lance is sitting in the shopping cart, long legs hanging over the thin metal, feet swinging in the air as he guides Hunk through the grocery store, leading him straight to the snacks aisle and Hunk groans.

“Come on, Lance,” he whines, trying to steer the guy away from the shelves but he manages to grab a few packets of Doritos anyway, cradling them to his chest with a cheeky grin. “We need _real_ food.”

“Doritos _are_ real food!”

“See, this is why you're so skinny,” Hunk tells him, smacking his hand away from reaching for a bottle of Coke. “I could break you into pieces.”

“You wouldn’t, though,” Lance counters, leaning his head back to bat his eyelashes sweetly at his best friend. “You love me too much.” When Hunk just snorts in answer, Lance twists his body to look at him properly, eyes wide, worried. “You _do_ love me, don’t you?”

Hunk gives him a look, as if to say ‘ _duh’_ , but Lance just arches his eyebrows higher, refusing to turn back around until Hunk says, “Yes, Lance, I love you.”

Lance beams, satisfied, his grin splitting his face as he slinks back into the cart. “I love you too, Hunk.” He pauses. “Like, so much.”

“I know that.”

“ _So, so_ _much._ ”

“Okay, I got it, man.”

“Really-”

Hunk stops the cart. “What’s this about?” Lance is quiet for a while, which is odd because it’s Lance and he’s never quiet, so Hunk taps his shoulder, whispering, “Lance? Come on, buddy, talk to me.”

It takes another moment or two, but eventually he shuffles around to face Hunk, his bottom lip between his teeth, forehead wrinkled in thought. “It’s just… We never really talked about, you know, _that day._ And I know you said we’re cool, but… are we really?”

Hunk looks down, the linoleum floor suddenly awfully interesting, and he isn’t sure what to say. He’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t upset about it at all, that it’s all water under the bridge, but at the same time, he knows how sorry Lance really is this time, and he’s seen how he made his own efforts to right his wrongs, and, “Yeah, man. We’re cool.” When Lance still looks doubtful, Hunk sighs, a small smile on his lips as he puts a hand on his shoulder. “Look, you messed up, we both know that, but you fixed it. Right? We’re still in school, we got a decent place to stay now, what more could we ask for?”

Lance tilts his head in somewhat agreement, a frown still tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, but… I told you we’d have our own place, just you and me. And now…”

“Now it’s you and me, plus four,” Hunk answers simply, no hint of disappointment in his voice. “It’s _still_ you and me, Lance.”

And Lance wonders how he does that, how he sees the good in every situation, in every person. He wonders how he sees the good in _Lance_ , because as far as he’s concerned, there isn’t any. Lance is a nuisance, a burden, a walking travesty, but Hunk keeps him around anyway, and he doesn’t understand why. He’ll never understand why, but for as long as Hunk will have him, he’ll stay.

—

Keith is dragging himself through the aisles of some hardware store, head ducked down and lips pressed into a thin line, trailing behind Shiro quietly, the two of them not speaking apart from Shiro reading off the list of whatever it is that they need to get.

“Could you grab that bulb?” Shiro absentmindedly points at a box on one of the shelves, purposely not looking at Keith. “No, not that one. The other- Yeah. Thanks.”

“Sure thing,” Keith mumbles, stuffing his hands back into his pockets.

They go back and forth like that for a while, all direct orders and curt answers, both refusing to be the first to acknowledge the obvious tension between them, but when Shiro refuses to ask him something about a pipe, just out of spite, even though he knows Keith is much better at plumbing than he is, Keith’s had enough.

“Can we not do this?” The exasperation in Keith’s tone is clear enough to make Shiro tear his confused gaze away from the odd-looking pipe, feigning a look of innocence when he turns to his brother.

“Do what?” he asks, eyebrows raised.

“ _This_ ,” Keith presses, his finger flicking between the two of them. “This whole passive-aggressive silent treatment thing. I’m sick of it. If you’re mad at me, just say you’re mad. I can take it. Just-”

“I’m not mad at you, Keith.”

“ _See!_ I knew- Wait, what?”

“I’m not mad,” he repeats, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Then why are you acting weird?” Keith asks, eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

Shiro just lifts a shoulder, saying, “I thought _you_ were mad at _me_.”

“Why would I be-”

“For forcing you to live with strangers, for making you share a room with one of those said strangers, for arguing with you and making you look bad in front of them as well…” Shiro trails off, a small sigh leaving his lips. “You’re allowed to be upset, Keith.”

Keith is at a loss for words, unsure how to feel about the whole situation, because _no_. “It’s my fault,” he says, looking up at Shiro with wide eyes. “I should’ve checked the place out properly, looked harder, found somewhere else-”

“ _Hey_.” Shiro stops him with a hand on his shoulder, shaking him a little. “You gotta stop beating yourself up about it, kid. You did what you could, and now we’ve got a roof over our heads. And yeah, maybe it’s not exactly what we planned, but we’ve been through worse and we’ll make it through this too. As long as it’s still you and me, we don’t need anything else.”

And Keith wonders how he does it, how he’s so optimistic and patient about everything, about everyone. He wonders how he’s so patient with Keith, because if he’s being honest, there’s nothing in him worth waiting for. Keith is a disappointment, he’s nothing but trouble and a waste of space, but Shiro continues to believe in him and he doesn’t understand why. He’ll never understand why, but for as long as Shiro wants him to, he’ll try.

—

They move in the next day, none of them bringing anything more than the bare minimum of belongings, and they don’t say it out loud, but they all know it's because that's all that they have.

Pidge and Matt set up makeshift beds in all the rooms with thin mattresses and even thinner covers, finding random pieces of furniture in some of the rooms, closets, tables, even a large mirror. Hunk and Shiro haul a lumpy couch into the living room, making it look as presentable as possible. Lance stocks up the pantry, then moves on to the fridge once Keith’s done hooking it up, the two boys glaring at each other the entire time. Though, Keith _does_ accept the cookie that Lance sneaks him before they leave the kitchen, despite Hunk’s warning not to ruin their appetite before he makes dinner. Lance considers it a win.

Their rare moment of mutual understanding doesn’t last long, though, because once they go up to their shared room later that night, all hell breaks loose.

“I want the window side.”

“No, _I_ want the window side!”

“But I said it first!”

“ _So?_ ”

“ _So_ , I’m getting it, you jerk!”

“What if I don’t give it to you?”

“What if I throw you out of the window?”

“Well, go ahead then, tough guy! You can’t even _reach_ me.”

Keith shuts his eyes, his teeth grinding as he balls up his fists at his side, because even though there's a huge thunderstorm raging outside, heavy rain beating down on their roof, dark clouds lining the sky, with the way Lance is getting on his nerves, he might actually try.

“Look,” he starts, but he's not sure where he's going with it. _Think_ , Keith. What do you offer a conceited, self-obsessed brat? He opens his eyes. “If you let me have the window, you get the bathroom, the closet _and_ the mirror.”

Lance considers the offer, and it _does_ seem like a good one, and if he's being honest, he doesn't even want the window side at all. He just said that because Keith wanted it. He's a petty little shit. But arguing is exhausting and all that grocery unloading took a toll on him today, so he juts his chin out stubbornly, putting on a couldn’t-care-less look as he says, “Fine.”

Keith lets out a satisfied huff, muttering something under his breath before he drags his bag over to the bed by the window, starting to unpack his things, so Lance turns to do the same.

“Just stay on your side and we’ll be fine,” Keith tells him, and Lance doesn’t know why, he really doesn't, but he hears himself repeat Keith’s words, voice high and mocking, and suddenly, there's something smacking him in the back of his head.

“ _Ow!_ What the hell?” Lance turns to find Keith scowling at him, then he scoffs, bending down with the intention to pick the thing up and chuck it back at Keith’s stupid face, but when he sees what it is, he pauses. Then, he bursts into laughter.

It’s only then that Keith realises what it was that he had thrown at Lance, and _oh God._

“Lance-”

“You have a stuffed lion!” Lance sounds giddy, mischief twinkling in his eyes as he grabs the toy off the floor before Keith can, holding it up high, waving it in the air.

“Give it back!” Keith tries to sound angry, but it comes out as a low whine and he wants to smack himself in the face.

“It’s cute, Keith, really,” Lance coos, hopping away from him, keeping the lion out of his reach. “I just didn’t think you were that much of a _baby_.”

“I’m not a-” Keith jumps at him, grunting loudly when he misses, and it's not that Lance is _that_ much taller than him, it's just that his limbs are freakishly long and he's oddly quick-footed for someone who looks like he’d trip over his own feet. “Look, it’s Shiro’s, okay-”

“Uh-huh, yeah, _sure_ , it’s Shiro’s.”

“I mean, he gave it to me, but it _was_ his- For fuck’s sake, _Lance!_ ”

Lance laughs brightly, enjoying this far too much, but seeing the way Keith’s face is turning red with frustration, he manages to breathe out through his giggles, “Okay, okay, okay. Here you go.” And he stills, holding the little black lion in front of him, right there for Keith to take, and Keith knows better, but he reaches out for it anyway and he shouldn’t be so surprised when Lance yanks it out of his grasp at the last second.

“You obnoxious little sh-”

Then, the lights go out.

Lance shrieks – literally, _shrieks_ – and when there’s a loud rumble of thunder, he's suddenly jumping into the air, latching onto the closest thing to him and almost like a reflex, Keith catches the screaming boy in his arms, cradling him close to his chest as Lance’s own arms wind around his neck.

And Keith can’t help but say, “Who's the baby now?”

A flash of lightning that brightens the room just enough for them to realise the position they were in makes them jump apart almost immediately, Lance landing with an _‘Oof!’_ on the ground, Keith’s heart hammering in his chest.

“Are you-”

The door swings open, and Lance is screaming bloody murder again, leaping behind Keith and despite himself, Keith holds out his arms in a lame attempt to cover him from whatever it is that’s behind that door.

“Guys?” Pidge appears in the doorway, a faint glow on her face from where she’s holding up her phone. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Keith clear his throat as he straightens up, his arms falling to his sides. “Yeah, we’re fine. What the hell happened?”

“The storm cut off our power,” she answers, a distressed grumble in her voice. “Probably won’t be able to fix it till morning.”

“Are you sure it was the storm?” Lance asks suddenly, and Keith had almost forgotten he was still there, clammy fingers clinging to the back of Keith’s shirt. His head pokes out from behind Keith’s shoulder, eyes wide in fear. “What if it’s not? What if this place is, like, _haunted?_ ”

Even in the dark, Keith can see Pidge roll her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she tells him, cutting him off with a flick of her hand when he opens his mouth to respond. “Just come downstairs, okay? Everyone’s in the living room.”

Keith takes a step to move, but Lance tugs him back, panic written all over his face. “Are you seriously going out there?” he hisses, and Keith groans, reaching back to swat Lance’s hands away from him.

“Yes, I am,” he answers, already heading for the door and he throws Lance a look over his shoulder, “But you can stay here if you want. In the dark. _Alone._ ” That’s all it takes for Lance to hurry after him, following him down the stairs, a little too close for comfort, really, the tall boy practically hanging off of Keith’s back.

“Dude, back up.”

“Sorry, I’m just-”

“Scared?”

“I’m not-”

“Yeah, you are.”

“Well, I should be! _You_ should be too. I mean, think about it!” he exclaims, tapping his skull for effect. “Creepy old house on the hill…  Why do you think it was so cheap? How come no one wanted to buy it? _Obviously_ , brutal murders. Boom!”

“Does Lance think this place is haunted?” Hunk asks from where he’s sitting on the living room floor, overhearing their conversation as they make their way into the room, Lance still stuck to Keith’s back.

Keith snorts, taking a seat next to Shiro, Lance not-so-gracefully plopping down on his other side. “Yeah, he does. Tortured souls of the brutally murdered.”

“Don’t mind him,” Hunk snickers, grinning a little. “He's still convinced that one of the janitors in our dorm is a vampire.”

“ _Hello!_ I’m right here!” Lance calls out from between them, an offended look on his face as he crosses his arms over his chest. “And did you ever see old Marty during the day? I don’t think so.”

“That’s because he worked the night shift, Lance.”

“How would you know?”

“I asked him!”

“And he didn’t try to suck your blood?”

“Oh my God, you are too much.”

That gets a laugh out of Keith, an actual, genuine laugh, and it’s such a rare sound that everyone sort of freezes for a moment, even Lance, _especially_ Lance, who just gives him this look because _whoa._ Is it weird that he finds Keith’s laugh… _nice?_ It’s bright and happy and gentle, all the things that seem like the complete opposite of what Keith is and Lance wonders how a sound like that could come from someone like him, and he doesn’t realise he’s been staring until Pidge interrupts his view, her arm breaking his gaze as she sets down candles between them, and Lance sucks in a sharp breath, looking away and-

“Great,” he half-cries, half-laughs, looking around him to see all six of them sat in a circle, the lighted candles lined up in front of each of them. “Now it looks like we’re about to summon a demon.” When all he gets are dirty looks in response, he gapes at them far too dramatically than necessary. “Seriously, guys! This is literally the start of every bad horror movie to ever exist, and you know who dies first?” He gestures at himself wildly. “The funny best friend!”

“You’re not funny, though,” Keith chimes.

Lance is about to say something, but he catches a hint of a smirk on the boy’s twisted lips, and he looks different right then, in the glow of the fire, and Lance suddenly forgets how to speak, the words getting lost on his tongue, so he just ducks his head, staring at the flickering flame of his own candle, wishing that the ground would open up and swallow him whole because _what the fuck?_

And Keith sees it, sees the way Lance looked at him, and he feels it too, feels the way his own lips betray him as they curve at the thought of the boy, and all he wants is to just disappear into a black hole and never return because _what the fuck?_

It’s quiet then, nothing but the sound of the rain pattering against the windows and their soft breaths in the vast room, until Lance says, “I can see the headlines already: _‘Six victims tragically killed in evil, haunted mansion.’_ ”

And when they all say, “Shut up, Lance!” there’s this odd feeling in their guts, a sort of warm, fuzzy feeling that the don’t quite understand. Except they do. They won’t admit it, but they all know exactly what it is. They know that even though they don’t really have any power, or furniture, or money, even though they don’t really know each other at all, they know this for a fact: _This is home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you guys think? Is the pace okay? The characters? Any questions or confusion? Let me know with a comment! Kudos is always appreciated as well, and if you're liking the story so far, it'd be super great if you could share it around for me on tumblr/twitter etc. Thank you!


	3. III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, I am so so SO sorry I took so long to update this. It's just that it was the last few weeks of my semester so I had a shit ton of tests and assignments and projects to finish and I didn't have any time to write. But this chapter is longer than the previous two so hopefully that'll make up for the delay! Thanks to those who are still sticking with the story and thanks to those who just started as well. This hasn't been proofread so any and all mistakes are my own. Enjoy!

Lance wakes to the sound of commotion around him, heavy footsteps stomping overhead, unfamiliar voices talking over each other and he sits up immediately – which, _ow_ , was bad idea – because now his head is spinning and where the hell is he? Then he remembers. _Right._  He and Hunk had just moved in yesterday, along with the others, and they had all fallen asleep downstairs after the power went out, their bodies sprawled out on the living room floor, his own head laid dangerously close to Keith’s lap.

And _Keith_ , goddamn Keith. He can’t believe he has to share a room with _him_ of all people. The guy’s a complete asshole and it really doesn't help that he's ridiculously gorgeous. Lance hadn’t noticed it at first, because he’d been too busy plotting his murder in his head, but last night, just before he’d fallen asleep – the boy had sort of zoned out after a while, his breaths quiet as he leaned his back against the couch, gaze focused on nothing in particular – and with his hair falling into his eyes, the flames of the candles dancing on his pale skin, Keith just seemed so… _dreamy_ , and that's not a word Lance would use on just anyone.

And now, he's gonna be constantly torn between wanting to stare at Keith’s perfect face and wanting to punch him right in the middle of it. He blames Hunk. Pidge too. And _Matt_. Ugh.

They’re all gone now though, Lance realises, as he looks around to see that he’s the only one still sitting there, legs tangled in a bunch of blankets and he wonders where everyone is.

As if hearing his thoughts, there's the sound of shuffling coming from the kitchen, so he stretches up, feet padding lightly against the cold floor as he makes his way over. He finds Shiro in there, rummaging through the drawers and shelves, dressed in a slightly wrinkled white shirt and Lance leans against the door frame coolly, arms crossed loosely over his chest.

“Looking for something?”

Shiro looks up, startled, but he relaxes when he sees who it is. “Oh, Lance, hey. Morning.” He flashes a smile, pushing a drawer shut. “And yeah, actually, I was looking for a bite to eat.” When Lance’s face falls, his eyes widen, hands held up. “I hope you weren't expecting breakfast. I couldn’t cook to save my life.”

“No, no, no,” Lance quickly answers, laughing a little, head shaking. “Not at all. It's just, we didn't exactly stock up on any breakfast foods yet so…”

“Oh.” Shiro bobs his head in a small nod, shoulders loosening up, that kind smile of his never leaving his face. “Don't worry about it, I’ll just grab something on the way to work.”

“What do you work as?” he asks, eyeing his shirt and tie. “The other day, Keith mentioned patients…”

Shiro straightens up, frowning a little when he remembers that conversation, but he shakes it off, saying, “Well, they're not _my_ patients exactly. I, uh, I work with children, psychotherapy and all that, but it's just an internship-assistant-ish sort of thing. I’m still in the middle of getting my master’s, so…”

“But Keith said you don't go uni,” Lance counters, slightly confused, and he wonders why he remembers this.

“Online courses,” he explains, and _ah_ , that makes sense. “Keith and I moved around a lot, so it just seemed like the easier option, you know?”

Lance nods, curious to know why they moved around so much, but he knows it's not his place to ask, not yet, at least, so he bites his tongue, swallowing his words. Instead he says, “Speaking of, where is that charming brother of yours?” He pauses, realising what he said and he quickly adds, “I mean, where is _everyone?_ ”

If Shiro thought anything of Lance asking about Keith, he didn't mention it. He just shrugs. “Probably getting ready for work, school. Shouldn’t you be too?”

“School?” Lance echoes, snorting a little, almost rolling his eyes. “Why would I be- _Wait_ , what’s the date today?”

“Uh, the 28th of August.”

“Oh no.” Lance’s eyes widen, realising what day it is. “ _Oh no._ It's the first day of classes.”

“Yeah…?”

“No, Shiro, you don't understand,” he cries, his hands clawing at his own face. “It’s the first day! I have to look good! And-and my first class is at nine-”

“ _Nine?_ ” Shiro looks worried now. “Jeez, Lance, it’s already half-past eight-”

Lance yelps, and he turns to run, not hearing whatever it is that Shiro says after that, his feet taking the stairs two steps at a time, all while screaming, “Why didn’t anyone wake me up?”

He bursts into his room – _their_ room – only to find Keith already dressed, bent over his mattress as he laces up his boots, looking awfully dashing in that stupid cropped jacket of his that went out of style, like, a century ago, as did that hairdo and Lance almost shudders at the thought that he finds a guy with a mullet attractive. A fucking _mullet_.

But on another note, Keith being dressed and ready to go meant that he’d been up for a while, at least, because really, no one looks that good right away, and couldn’t he have at least nudged Lance a little? Not that it’d make a difference, because Lance is impossible to wake when he's in a nice slumber, but it's the thought that counts.

“ _You!_ ” Lance hisses, and Keith turns to him with a furrowed look. “Why the hell didn't you wake me up?”

Keith’s eyebrows raise, eyes blinking and he looks confused for a moment, but something clicks and he snaps out of it, a scowl twisting his lips and all he says is, “Do I look like a fucking alarm clock to you?”

Lance rolls his eyes, fighting the urge to choke the guy because _honestly_. “You could’ve just woken me up when you got up! You _knew_ I’d be starting school today-”

“ _No_ , I didn’t. How would I even know that-”

“ _Shiro_ knew-”

“Well, _I_ didn’t. And I literally just got up, like, five minutes before you came in.”

“No way!”

“Yes way!”

“But you-” Lance stops himself, realising that he’d be wasting his time _and_ breath if he continued to argue with the guy, and really, what would he say? _‘But you can't just roll out of bed and magically look like that’?_ Of course he wouldn't say that, he couldn't. So he just breathes out slowly, counting to ten in his head before he turns sharply on his heel, storming into the bathroom and slamming the door shut behind him. And he doesn't even know why he's so mad, why he's so mad at _Keith_ specifically. He knows that he's the only one to blame for this, that there was no way Keith could’ve known, that he really should be more responsible for himself, but _God_. He’s upset, more at himself than anyone else, and he strips off his clothes far too roughly than he needs to, leaning down to turn the tap, and-

“ _Fuck!_ ”

—

Keith hears the scream coming from inside the bathroom, and for a moment, he considers doing something about it, but then again, Lance screams at _everything_ , so he ignores it, going back to strapping up his boots.

But _Lance_ , fucking Lance. He can't believe he has to put up with his shit for who knows how long. The guy’s a menace and it really doesn't help that he's so oddly good-looking. Keith hadn’t let himself admit it at first, because he’d been too busy thinking of ways to get rid of him, but last night, after the boy had fallen asleep – he’d been going on and on about his theories of the mysteries of the old mansion before he dozed off mid-sentence, laying his head down right next to Keith – and with his eyelashes spread against the tops of his cheeks, the candlelight casting dark shadows against his tan skin, there was no denying it anymore because Lance just looked so… _soft_ , and Keith would never use that word to describe just anyone.

And now, he’s stuck between wanting to cradle the pretty boy in his arms or wanting to crush him until he's nothing but dust. He blames Shiro. Pidge too. And _Matt_. Ugh. It doesn't matter now, though, Keith thinks to himself, because there's no way he's getting out of this, no way he's getting away from the guy.

As if reading his mind, the bathroom door swings open, the loud creaking of its hinges making Keith look over his shoulder and he finds Lance standing in the doorway, a flimsy blue towel wrapped around his waist and he's _drenched_ , his dark hair sticking to his forehead, water dripping from his face.

“Why do you look like a wet rat?”

Lance scoffs loudly, looking truly offended as he perches his hands on his bony hips. “Why do I- The fucking pipe burst in my face, that's why!” When Keith just gives him an empty stare in return, wondering what this has to do with him, Lance gestures at him accusingly. “I thought you were supposed to fix the plumbing!”

“Oh my God,” Keith mutters under his breath, his hands pressing to his cheeks and it takes everything in him not to claw his own face out. “We’ve been here a day, Lance. A _day_. I’ve barely had time to _breathe_ , and not to mention the fact that most of that time, I was arguing with _you_ , so tell me, when would I have had time to fix the plumbing?”

“Well, I-” He hesitates, obviously unsure what to say to that, and Keith looks smug. It doesn't last long because then the guy says, “Whatever. My point is, I need to take a shower so you have to fix it now-”

“ _Now?_ ”

“I have a class in twenty minutes-”

“Twenty minutes?” Keith laughs, but it's empty, mocking and he doesn't miss the vexed look on Lance’s face. “And you're worried about taking a shower?”

Lance scowls at him, his arms crossed over his bare chest now and for someone so lanky, he's surprisingly toned. Not that Keith's looking at him like that. Of course not. He shakes his head a little to snap himself out of it.

“It's the first day of my sophomore year,” Lance says in a ‘duh’ tone, as if that explained everything. “I need to look good.”

“To impress the math geeks?” Keith snorts, his eyelids hooded lazily to stop himself from rolling his eyes at the guy for the hundredth time, because he's never met anyone so… _Lance_. There's really no other way to describe him. “No, what you need,” Keith tells him pointedly, “is to get your priorities straight.”

“Oh, don’t talk to me about _priorities_ -”

“It takes you _at least_ ten minutes to get to campus-”

“Well then I’ve got another ten to spare, if you’d just  _fix_ the goddamn-”

“You’d have _twenty_ if you just left now-”

“I can’t leave looking like _this_ -”

“But you-” Keith cuts himself off, biting his tongue because he knows there's no point bickering with this man-child any longer than he has to, and really, what was he supposed to say? _‘But you look good like that, or any way really’?_ No, no, no. He couldn’t say that. Definitely not. So he purses his lips, breathing in deeply, letting the tension leave his shoulders. And he doesn't know why he's giving in, doesn't know why he's so submissive when it comes to _Lance_ especially. But before he knows it, he's crossing the room to where Lance is standing, throwing him a sharp look before he pushes past him, knocking into his shoulder for effect, and he grabs some tools from under the sink to patch up the burst pipe as best as he can and if the feeling of Lance’s eyes on his back as he works makes him feel fluttery inside, no one needs to know.

“Thank-” Lance starts when Keith’s done, but he just waves him off, leaving the boy to shower as he almost races out of the room, _their_ room, and once he's downstairs, he can breathe again. And _what the fuck, Keith?_ It's not even nine in the morning and he's already falling apart. How the hell is he supposed to deal with this guy every single day?

He has no idea, but he doesn't have to worry about it right now, because he's going to work, far, far away from-

His thoughts are interrupted when someone races past him, almost knocking him over and he barely keeps himself upright when he sees Hunk pulling on his shoes, saying, “Sorry, Keith! Tell Lance I’ll see him later!”

“Wait, you're not going with him?”

“Shiro’s already waiting for me in the car.” He flashes an apologetic look. “And Pidge and Matt already biked to school earlier.”

“But how’s Lance gonna-” He doesn't get to finish his sentence, because Hunk is already gone, the door left wide open and-

“How is Lance gonna, what?”

_Oh God._

Keith looks over his shoulder to see Lance walking down the stairs, dressed in a denim shirt and these black jeans that fit him just right and- _Keith_ , stop. He gulps, properly facing him. “How are you gonna get to school?”

“With Hunk-”

“Just caught a ride with Shiro.”

“Well, what about Pi-”

“Already left with Matt.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

It's quiet for a moment, the two boys just standing opposite each other, feet shuffling awkwardly, and the thick air is starting to make Keith uncomfortable, so he's about to leave, muttering, “I’m just gonna go-”

“Wait!” Lance’s arm shoots out to grab his hand, which, _okay_ , but he drops it almost immediately, face flushing when Keith turns back to him, raising his eyebrows in question. Lance’s mouth opens like he wants to say something, but he doesn't know how, so he just sort of widens his eyes at Keith, trying to get him to understand and-

“No,” Keith says, when he figures out what it is that Lance is implying. “Nope. Not happening.”

“ _Keith!_ ” Lance pouts his lips, shoulders sagging. “Come on! I have no other option.”

“You could walk,” he suggests dryly, lips pressed into a thin line.

“That would take me _ages!_ And _you're_ the one who said I need to prioritise,” Lance counters, pointing a finger at Keith.

“Oh, _now_ you choose to listen to me.”

Lance lets out this sound that's a cross between a whine and groan, Keith isn’t exactly sure, but the boy starts to tug at the sleeve of Keith’s jacket, that damn pout still on his face, eyes pleading. “Please? It’ll be a one-time thing, I swear. I’ll owe you big time. Please, Keith, please please _please_ -”

“Alright!” Keith huffs loudly, pulling his arm away from him. “Jeez. Just… hurry up, okay? We’re already late.”

“Thank you!” Lance squeals, and it looks like he's about to hug Keith, so he moves away before he can, heading for the door. “But, wait, I haven’t had break-”

“ _Lance!_ ”

“Oh, right.” He hurries after Keith, hopping around with one shoe on, trying to slip his foot into the other and when he tumbles face-first down the porch stairs, Keith sighs, shaking his head.

 _You are impossible, Lance McClain,_ Keith thinks to himself, swinging a leg over his motorbike, his helmet already on and he motions for Lance to do the same, offering him the spare helmet.

So Lance climbs on, quite ungracefully, his long legs hanging awkwardly over the sides as he pulls on the helmet and he jumps a little when Keith revs the engine.

“Scared?” Keith asks, sounding smug as he repeats himself from last night, and Lance can’t see his face through the helmet, but he knows there's a smirk on his lips.

“No,” Lance scoffs, but when Keith lets the bike lurch forward just a little, he yelps, throwing his arms around Keith’s waist immediately and a surprised, “Oh!” escapes Keith’s lips.

“Um…” Lance pulls his arms back awkwardly.

“Do you-”

“Can I-”

Keith swallows thickly, unsure what to do because the only other person he's ever had on his bike was Shiro, and even then, Shiro always insisted on driving. But he supposes he could just… He quickly reaches back and grabs Lance’s wrists, tugging them forward and letting his arms wrap around his middle, his hands lingering on Lance’s a little longer than they need to before he straightens up, clearing his throat.

“Ready?”

Lance shuffles closer, grip tightening around him. “Ready.”

So Keith rides, going as fast as he can, weaving through narrow streets and morning traffic, following Lance’s vague directions to his campus, and they make it there just past nine, the bike jerking to a stop outside the large building. Lance is thanking him over and over as he slides off the bike, pulling the helmet off his head and-

“Um, Lance?”

“Yeah?”

He looks at Keith, and _it's the eyes_ , Keith decides, those stupid puppy dog eyes, all warm and pure, that’s what makes him so weak when it comes to Lance. It's also why he finds himself reaching out for the boy’s still-damp hair, his fingers smoothing down the bits that had gotten messed up from the helmet and he quirks a half-smile.

“Gotta look good for your first day, right?”

“Right,” Lance breathes out, a shy smile sneaking onto his lips, cheeks tinged red. “Um, thanks, Keith. I mean it.” Keith nods curtly in answer, and he takes that as his cue to go, heading for his lecture hall, a little confused by what just happened, but… good confused. And he thinks to himself, _you are something else, Keith Kogane._

—

Lance has a bad habit of crushing on people too quickly, and really, it’s not his fault that some people are just so freaking attractive. Besides, they’re just an inkling of feelings that usually go away after the initial _‘wow!’_ moment and once he realises that they aren’t _that_ special, he moves on with his life. Most of the time, anyway. But he has to admit there _are_ times when those feelings he has can become a little overwhelming, to the point that they crush his entire heart and soul, so much that he ends up crying about it to Hunk at 3 in the morning with a mouthful of cookie dough ice cream and all the worst romance movies playing on repeat. Especially when his feelings are for someone who can quite literally crush him into pieces. Someone like Keith.

And _okay,_  he’s not saying he likes Keith, but… he kinda likes Keith. It’s just, with the whole fixing his hair and giving him a ride to school on his badass bike thing, all they needed was an overly-dramatic goodbye kiss and a crowd to cheer them on, and it would’ve been something straight out of one of those movies that Lance loves so much. Not that he wants to kiss Keith. Of course not. Or… Oh man, maybe he _does_ want to kiss Keith. God, what’s wrong with him? Why is he so-

“Mr. McClain, are you still with us?”

Lance also has a bad habit of zoning out in the middle of Calculus.

“Yeah.” He sits up straighter, shaking his head to break himself out of the haze that’s filled with _KeithKeithKeith_ and he sends an apologetic look to his professor. “Yeah, I’m here. Sorry.”

Lance manages to stay somewhat focused through the rest of the lecture, pushing away any and all thoughts of _him,_  and he’s feeling a little light-headed as he makes his way to the courtyard, wondering where Hunk is when he spots an oddly familiar mop of messy brown hair, and it takes him a while to place it, but then he realises-

“ _Pidge?_ ” He stops in his tracks. “Pidge! Hey! Pidgester! Pidgeroo! Pidgeon!” When the kid doesn’t hear him, oblivious to his calls as she continues walking, he cups his hands around his mouth, yelling, “Hey, Gunderson!”

Now, _that_ gets her attention. Pidge looks around, pushing her too-large glasses up the bridge of her nose, stretching on her tiptoes to find the source of the shouting and when she finally does, her face falls flat, shrinking back to her usual mini size and it looks like she’s about to turn away. Despite her obvious attempt to act like she doesn’t know him, he waves his hands wildly at her, continuing to call out her name until she sighs, deciding to make her way over to him, her steps quite blatantly reluctant.

“Lance,” she says, deadpan, as she taps her foot impatiently, as though she’d rather be anywhere but there.

“Pidge,” he shoots back with a flashy grin, oblivious to her distaste for him. “What are you doing here?”

Her eyes narrow at him. “I go to school here,” she answers, a ‘duh’ tone in her voice. “I thought I told you guys.”

“Well, I thought you meant _grade school_ or something,” Lance says, looking at her up and down, eyebrow arching high. “Aren’t you, like, ten?”

Pidge smacks his arm and _okay_ , maybe he deserved that. “I’m fourteen, you idiot,” she huffs, scowling up at him.

“And you’re in college?”

“I’m a genius,” she answers with a shrug of her shoulders, and there’s no hint of bragging in her words at all. It was simply a fact and they both knew it.

“Well, _genius_ ,” Lance slings an arm around her shoulders, his grip too strong for Pidge to squirm out of it, and they start to walk, Pidge needing to take extra steps to keep up with Lance’s long strides. “It’s nice to have another friend here, you know. I mean, I know we’ve only been here for a year, but I promise me and Hunk will make sure you have a hell of a time, just as much as we did when we were freshmen. Just wait till all the parties are in full swing and all the school events start and-” Lance hums contently, a bright grin on his face as he looks down at her. “I’m excited. Are you excited?”

“Thrilled,” Pidge mutters dryly, and Lance clicks his tongue disapprovingly, almost flicking her on the nose.

“I’m gonna need a little more enthusiasm if you’re gonna be a part of my crew,” he tells her pointedly.

“Your _crew?_ ” Pidge snorts. “What, you, Hunk and Marty the janitor?”

Lance rolls his eyes. “Ha-ha. Real funny. You know, believe it or not, I’m actually _really_ popular. Everyone loves me. They just can’t help it. I’m _that_ irresistible.”

“I’m going with ‘not’.”

“Ah, you doubt me now, but patience, young padawan,” Lance chimes, looking awfully smug. “You’ll see soon enough.”

Pidge stops walking. “Was that a Star Wars reference?”

“Yeah?”

“Huh.”

“Huh, what?”

“I love Star Wars.”

“Who doesn’t?”

“Idiots, obviously,” is what she says and she sounds so offended that Lance can’t help but laugh, loud and full, and surprisingly, so does she.

Then Lance says, “Hey, uh, I’m really sorry about the other day.” Pidge raises her eyebrows in question. “The whole freaking out about finding out that you're a girl thing. It was dumb, and I really shouldn't have reacted like that, and I just- I’m sorry, Pidge.”

Pidge is quiet for a while, looking down at her feet, but then she tilts her head up to him, a lopsided smile on her lips. “I’ll forgive you…” She pauses. “If you promise to marathon all eight episodes with  me sometime.”

“Done and done.” He grins brightly, before it twists into something a little more sly as he nudges Pidge in the side. “Does this mean you're part of my crew now?”

“Don’t call it a crew.”

“Okay, but yes, right? _Right?_ ”

Pidge just hums in return, her tiny shoulders shrugging but she bursts into laughter when she sees the look on Lance’s face, and despite himself, he laughs along, and just like that, they’re okay. They’re friends and that's all Lance needs.

—

Keith has a bad habit of doing dumb things when he's around someone he has a crush on, and really, it's not his fault some people just make it hard for him to think his actions through. Besides, it's not as if he even likes people all that often anyway, because most of the time, everyone he meets just gives him a reason to hate them within five minutes of their acquaintance. Although, he has to admit that there _are_ times, rare times, when he develops feelings for someone, good feelings, and when that happens, he knows he's a complete goner because when he falls, he falls hard, to the point that he’ll end up driving himself crazy knowing he’ll never get them. Especially when it's someone who knows exactly how to get under his skin and crush him from the inside out. Someone like Lance.

And _no_ , he's not saying he likes Lance but… he sorta likes Lance. It's just, with the way he hugged Keith tighter when his bike went a bit too fast and how he blushed like a little schoolboy when Keith fixed his hair, all they needed was an epic confession of how they’ve both liked each other for a long time but were too shy to ever admit it and now that they have, they can finally be together. Not that Keith wants to be with Lance. Of course not. Not a chance. Unless… _No_. That would never happen because they’d only just met each other three days ago and he’s insane for even thinking of it. What the hell is wrong with him? How can he be so-

“You twist that wrench any harder and you’ll break the damn thing, Keith.”

Keith also has a bad habit of taking out his frustrations on his tools.

“Sorry, Thace,” he says as he drops the wrench back into his toolbox, standing up and dusting his hands on the back of his grease-stained overalls. He looks over at his boss who’s watching him with a skeptic eye. “I just got a lot on my mind right now.”

“Girl troubles?” Thace asks, and when Keith immediately shakes his head, looking almost terrified at the idea of him with a girl, Thace’s lips curl into a knowing smile, eyebrows arching. “Boy troubles, then?”

Keith hates that he hesitates before he coughs, “No way,” and he looks down to avoid Thace’s gaze. He wonders if he’s gonna push the topic, but after a silent moment, the guy decides to let it slide, snapping his fingers to grab Keith’s attention instead.

“Look, why don’t you go watch the counter?” he offers, nodding at the car engine Keith was working on. “I’ll finish up back here.”

Keith nods, mumbling a thank you as he walks past, sliding himself behind the counter up front, and he slumps in his seat, determined not to think about _him_ at all and he’s just about to doze off because no one ever actually comes to the counter anyway, when he hears the bell by the door jingle and a familiar voice asking, “Hey, I’m looking for a-”

“Hunk?” Keith sits up, suddenly not the tiniest bit sleepy, wondering what a guy like Hunk was doing at a workshop almost halfway across town.

Hunk blinks, only then realising who it was standing behind the counter, and a bright grin splits his face. “Oh, hey, Keith,” he says, sounding awfully chipper, like seeing Keith was the best part of his day and Keith has a feeling he’s like that with everyone he talks to, like he’s just genuinely interested in them and Keith thinks that’s nice. He thinks Hunk is nice. “I didn’t know you worked here.”

He lifts a shoulder lazily. “Yeah, been working here since I-” He stops himself, clearing his throat. “For a while,” is what he says instead, and if Hunk notices the change, he doesn’t comment on it, just nods and says, “Cool.”

“So, what are you doing here?” Keith asks quickly, wanting to change the subject before things got awkward and Hunk says, “Oh!” as though he just remembered where he was and why he came.

“I’m looking for some parts for my latest project,” he tells Keith, and when Keith just blinks at him, he adds, “Oh, I’m majoring in robotics engineering. Lance didn’t tell you?”

Keith shakes his head, hoping his face doesn’t betray him at the mention of the boy, but he says, “Robotics, huh? That’s pretty cool, man.”

“I know, right?” Hunk’s eyes twinkle with excitement as he launches into an in-depth description of the robot he’s currently working on, and he looks so enthusiastic about his work that Keith can’t help but listen to him go on and on, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he nods along with the guy’s wild hand gestures. “... I’m thinking of shaping it like a lion, and making it yellow because-” He cuts himself off, a sheepish look crossing his features and he says, “Sorry, I was babbling, wasn’t I? I just- I get really excited about my robots and well, Lance listens to me talk about them sometimes but you know him, he gets distracted after, like, three seconds, then I end up talking to myself mostly, which kinda sucks but-” He smacks his palm to his forehead to shut himself up, groaning a little. “I did it again, didn’t I?”

Keith laughs, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it, Hunk. It gets pretty boring around here, so robot talk is good.” Then he straightens up, a crease in the middle of his forehead. “And not that you being here is a bad thing, but how come you’re getting your parts from some garage so far away from campus?”

Hunk seems to hesitate, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck and although the smile is still on his face, never wavering, it’s a little tighter than before, as is his voice when he speaks. “I used to get my parts from this guy a couple doors down from us in the dorms, but since we got kicked out, I had to go somewhere else and this place was the closest one I could find, even though it’s still pretty far...” His face falls for a moment before he perks back up, saying cheerily, “But hey, look on the bright side, you’re here, right?”

“Right,” Keith agrees, and he wants to ask what Lance did that got them thrown out, and why Hunk was forced out with him, but he knows it’s not his place to ask, not yet, so he just tucks his questions away for later, and mirrors Hunk’s smile, and he’s surprised at how easily it comes, how easy it is to be comfortable around the guy and Keith’s never been one to share, but he finds himself saying, “You know, if you want, you could build your robots in the garage at home. I know you said you wanted to work on them in your room, but if you need a little extra space…”

“Aren’t you using the garage, though?” Hunk asks, looking slightly confused.

Keith shrugs. “Yeah, to work on my bike, but I don’t really need a lot of space for that. Like, we’d have to clean and patch the place up a little, but I think it could work.” He pauses when he sees Hunk staring at him with this look that he can’t quite understand, and he suddenly feels unsure of himself, swallowing thickly. “I mean, it was just a suggestion, you don’t- you don’t have to-”

“No!” Hunk shakes his head, hands lifted. “No, no, no. That’s not what I meant! I just- Oh God, it was my face, wasn’t it? It totally was. But no, I mean, _yes_ , I’d love to share the garage with you.” He seems to silently curse himself for his muddled words. “I was just a little surprised that you’d offer and my face just went-” He pulls a weird face that gets a small chuckle out of Keith, despite himself, and that makes Hunk feel a little better, that smile back on his face. “But really, it would be _so_ great, if you’re still okay with it.”

“Yeah, Hunk, I’m okay with it,” Keith tells him, and he lets out a breath of relief.

“You know Keith, you’re not as bad as I thought you were,” Hunk says, then immediately regrets his words, biting his tongue. “ _Sorry_. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just, you don’t exactly talk much and when you do, it usually turns into an argument- And oh my God, I need to stop talking.”

Keith gives him a lopsided smirk, rolling his shoulders lightly. “It’s fine,” he mumbles, a small sigh in the back of his throat. “I get what you mean and I don’t blame you. I’m not usually like that- Or, _okay_ , maybe I am a little like that, but I have to admit I’ve been harsher than normal lately. It’s just… the whole situation, it’s messed up, so, you know, sorry for that.”

Hunk waves a hand, shaking his head a little. “Nah, I’m sure you’ve got your reasons,” he says, then with a cheeky grin, he adds, “Plus, having to deal with Lance all the time, I can imagine…”

That gets a laugh out of Keith, bright and cheery, and it makes Hunk laugh too, and just like that, they’re okay. They’re friends and Keith’s never really had one of those before.

—

It’s Wednesday when Pidge suddenly announces that they’re having a game night that Friday, as a way of ‘bonding’ with each other, which _everyone_ has to come to, and though she doesn’t point any fingers, Lance, Keith and Matt don’t miss the warning look she sends their way, all three boys rolling their eyes as soon as they think she isn’t looking. She sees them though, and she turns to see Hunk and Shiro looking at her like they’re wondering how she’s gonna pull this off, and honestly? She has no idea. For all she knows, Lance would end up breaking something, possibly a limb of his own, and Keith would yell at him for it until his throat went raw, and Matt would lock himself in his room halfway through the night, and Hunk would fall asleep before the night even began, and Shiro would be stuck in the middle of it all, thinking about how he’s way too old for this, and Pidge? Well, she would be Pidge, and she’d make it work somehow.

—

The night starts off on the wrong foot. Literally.

“Keith,” Hunk groans, for the hundredth time, pointing at the board in his hand. “It's your _right_ foot on red, not left.”

They had decided to play Twister, despite Pidge sitting out the game, claiming that it was unfair that her limbs were shorter than everyone else’s and Keith asking, “What’s Twister?” like he’d never heard of it before because honestly, he hasn’t. And it was a bad idea, really, because none of them had eaten dinner yet – Hunk had argued back and forth with Lance about what to eat until they decided to just order pizza – and all their energy from lunch had begun to wear off, their arms and legs struggling to keep themselves in position on the colourful mat.

“Yeah, Keith,” Lance sneers from somewhere to his right, body bent backwards, balancing on one hand. “Can’t you even tell your rights and lefts? No wonder you're not in school anymore.”

Keith opens his mouth to say something to that, just a touch offended, but a glimpse at the boy’s face tells him that he means nothing by it, so he just stands upright instead, crossing his arms over his chest. “This is a stupid game.”

“Finally, something we agree on,” Matt grumbles, sliding out from under Lance’s arm, his hair ruffled slightly.

Lance frowns from where he’s still holding himself up, refusing to just give the game up, and he shoots a glance to his left. “Shiro, don’t you dare-”

Shiro stretches up, groaning a little as he bends backwards. “Sorry, Lance,” he says, lifting a shoulder. “My back was starting to hurt.”

Keith snorts at that, mumbling, “Old man,” under his breath as he punches Shiro’s arm lightly, and Shiro does the same to him, laughing, “At least I know what Twister is.” “ _Hey_.” And Lance watches the exchange from below, finding it odd to see the two of them act so playfully with each other, the whole situation a stark contrast to all their constant arguments and he can’t help but feel a tiny bit jealous. So he clears his throat, announcing, “Well, I guess that means I win!” before he pushes himself up, puffing his chest out with a cocky grin plastered on his face.

“ _No_ , it just means you’re the loser who got up last,” Keith shoots back, a smirk of his own tugging at the corners of his lips and it makes Lance’s face turn sour.

“You’re just jealous because I’m better than you!”

“Jealous of _you?_ Please. Not in a million years.”

“Well, prove it then!”

“I will!”

“Rematch. _Now_.”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

The doorbell rings, a faded _ding-dong_ echoing through the house and they exchange looks, heads turning, mouths pursed, eyes narrowed. Lance blinks.

“Pizza first?”

“...Yeah, okay.”

Lance crosses the room to the main hall, money already in his hands, stomach grumbling at the thought of the stack of pizzas waiting for him on the other side of that door, and he pulls it open so quickly that he doesn’t even realise who’s standing in front of him until he almost shoves the money in their face, arm reaching out for the pizzas and-

“You’re not the pizza guy.” Lance awkwardly pulls his arms back to his sides, cocking his head to the side as he looks at the woman in front of him, her skin dark and smooth, with long silver hair falling around her pretty face. “Uh… pizza _girl?_ ”

“No, I’m afraid not,” she says, with an accent that's definitely not local, a small smirk playing on her lips that makes Lance’s face burn bright red.

“Who are you then?” he asks, standing a little straighter, looking down at her with cool eyes, leaning against the door frame. “I mean, what are you doing here?”

“Oh, I’m-”

“ _Allura?_ ” Keith freezes just behind Lance, eyes wide when his gaze lands on her.

“Keith! Hi!” She grins, pushing past Lance to give the boy a hug, which he somewhat returns with a single arm, patting her back before she pulls away, still holding onto his shoulders. Lance watches them, feeling a familiar tug in his chest that seems an awful lot like jealousy, and he doesn’t know why, but he kicks the door shut a little harder than he needs to, making them jump apart, Allura’s lips parted in a small gasp and Keith’s face twisted in confusion.

Lance flashes a half-assed smile, shoving his hands in his pockets and he arches an eyebrow. “So, who is this?” he asks Keith through gritted teeth. “Your girlfriend?”

Keith's lips curl down, looking almost offended when he scoffs, “No, she’s-”

“ _My_ girlfriend,” Shiro says, coming through the doorway and he walks over to Allura, sliding an arm over her shoulders as she turns to peck his cheek.

“Oh.” Lance’s shoulders loosen, relief replacing the tension in his body as he realises that she's not a threat to him and Keith, and as soon as the thought crosses his mind, he wonders why he thought of it at all. For all he knows, Keith could have a girlfriend of his own somewhere out there, or maybe even a boyfriend, and Lance wouldn’t have a chance with him anyway. Not that he wants one. Or- _Ugh_. He doesn’t want to think about that now so he focuses his gaze on Shiro and Allura, a lopsided smile stretching across his face as his eyes drag over them, head to toe. And it hits him right there and then how stunningly attractive the two of them are, even more so when they're standing next to each other and he sighs. “Wow.”

Keith shoots him a look. “Wow, what?”

“ _Wow_ , I’ve never been more bisexual in my entire life,” Lance says, still shamelessly checking them out, the couple rolling their eyes at him in sync, but despite that, they look somewhat pleased with themselves, like they know just how hot they are, and really, they probably do.

“You’re bi?” Pidge comes in through the same way that Shiro did earlier, Hunk and Matt at her heels. Lance nods, and she says, “Cool.”

None of them say anything more about it, and maybe it's because they expected it, or maybe they just don’t care about it all, but Lance doesn’t mind either way, because his sexuality is one of the few things in his life that he’s certain of. It's a part of him, it’s who he is and he knows it, and no one’s ever gonna change that.

Keith doesn't say anything either, but he's looking at Lance and wondering how he could just say… _that_ , like it was no big deal, like he didn’t care what anyone would think about it, and knowing Lance, he probably doesn't. And Keith wonders if he could ever be like him, if he could ever just come out and say things like that and not worry about what might happen if he did. Because he knows that he's… different. He might not be like Lance, but he sure as hell isn’t like Shiro either. He tells himself he doesn’t know what he is, but deep down, deep, deep, _deep_ down, he knows. He knows why he likes Lance, and why he could never like Allura. But he’d rather die than ever admit it to anyone, even to himself.

He doesn’t have to think about it right then, because Shiro clears his throat, turning everyone’s attention to him and Allura, matching smiles on both their faces that makes Keith almost roll his eyes. Fucking poster couple.

“Everyone, this is my girlfriend, Allura,” he announces, like some talk show host, his arm around her waist. “Allura, this is Lance, Pidge, Hunk and Matt.”

They exchange hi’s and hello’s, or at least, Hunk and Pidge do, while Lance winks at her and Matt just grunts. Shiro figures that’s the best he’s gonna get so he puts on that smile again, saying, “She’s gonna be dropping by every now and then, so I thought it’d be good for everyone to get to know her a little, if that’s okay.”

“Totally okay.”

“It’s cool.”

“Yeah, definitely.”

“Whatever.”

“I hope I’m not intruding,” she says, her voice soft and kind. “I know this is supposed your bonding night and everything, so I can come back-”

“Don’t bother,” Keith mutters lazily, eyes sliding over to her. “You being here couldn’t make it any worse than it already is.”

Shiro opens his mouth to say something, but Allura holds a hand up, shooting him a look that makes him swallow his words and she turns to Keith, clicking her tongue. “Well then, party pooper, what were you doing before I came that was so bad?”

“Me and Keith were just about to have a Twister rematch,” Lance answers, a smirk on his lips. “Because he couldn’t accept the fact that _I_ won.”

“By _default_.”

“Still won.”

“Keith played Twister?” Allura gapes at him, eyes wide in pleasant surprise. “ _You_ played Twister? Like, actually, physically, joined the game? And it didn’t kill you?”

Keith fights the urge to roll his eyes again, settling for a huff instead. “Shut up,” he grumbles, frowning at her obvious delight in the situation. “I had to. It’s not like it was fun or anything.”

“He’s just saying that because he lost,” Lance fake-whispers behind his hand, looking so goddamn smug that Keith wants to smack him. Or kiss him. Or _both_. Fuck.

“Don’t worry, I’ll win this time,” Keith shoots back with a dashing smirk of his own, his hands coming up to pull his hair back into a ponytail. “You know, _actually_ win.”

The rest of them _ooh_ at that, and he thinks he hears Hunk say, “He tied his hair up. You’re done, Lance. It’s over.” But Lance doesn’t bite, he just stands up straighter, saying, “You’re on.”

Allura claps excitedly, a wicked grin splitting her face. “I’ll spin!” And she bounces over to the living room, grabbing the board while Keith and Lance stand on opposite sides of the mat, glaring each other down, the others crowding around them, except for Matt who hangs back a little further, watching the game from afar, a bored expression on his face.

Keith doesn’t know why he’s doing this. The entire thing seems so stupid, so childish, but Lance brings out a competitive streak in him that he’s never really had before, and he can’t help but want to win, just for the hell of it. Lance, though, Lance thinks this is the most fun he’s had in weeks. After all the shit that’s happened lately, all the stress and the worrying and the fighting, he can finally just let loose, and in a fucking Twister match with _Keith_ no less. Life is hilarious like that.

Allura calls out, “Keith, left hand on blue,” and when Keith actually gets it right, Lance fakes a gasp, which Keith returns with a flip of his finger, and despite themselves, they laugh at each other, both realising just how fucking ridiculous this whole thing is. But as ridiculous as it is, both boys want to win just as much as the other, just because. And as the game goes on, they grow more aggressive, eager to win, ignoring the stabbing pains of hunger in their stomachs and the weak trembles in their muscles, both holding out as much as they can, and neither of them really know why.

It’s not until Keith is bent over on his back, like a bridge, blood rushing to his head, and Lance is stretching a leg over Keith so that he’s straddling the boy’s hips that they both realise how fucked they are. Because Keith looks so fiercely attractive, with his hair tied back and his biceps flexed as his arms hold him up, and Lance looks so graceful, his long limbs looking like they go on for days, his body insanely flexible as it bends this way and that. And now that Lance is right over Keith, his thighs brushing against Keith’s skin from where his t-shirt had slid up, the taller boy looking down at him with those stupid brown eyes, Keith feels his arms go weak, his heart hammering so hard in his chest that he prays on all his lucky stars that Lance can’t feel it. And Lance is wishing for the same thing, hoping Keith doesn’t notice that his cheeks are starting to burn and his stomach is doing 360-degree flips inside him. It takes everything in him to stay still, because if he moves just a bit, he might go somewhere a little lower than Keith’s hips and he doesn’t think he can handle that right now, and _goddamn_ , why is Allura taking so long to pick the next move?

Keith doesn’t want to look at Lance, because that would just make things a billion times worse, but in the position that he’s in, it’s either stare at Lance or let all the blood pool to his head until it explodes and honestly, he’s considering the latter. But he tilts his head up anyway, and he’s surprised to find Lance already looking down at him, his face flushed and eyes wide, and he looks so pretty, and he’s so close, so, _so_ close, if Keith leaned up just a bit- _No_. Stop. He wonders, though, what it would feel like to kiss him, to kiss _someone_ , and he doesn’t realise that his tongue is running over his bottom lip until Lance’s eyes widen even more, his body going still.

And what the hell does he think he’s doing? Lance is already on the verge of losing all self control and he’s a second away from just kissing the fuck out Keith’s stupid, clueless face, and now the guy’s licking his lips like a little tease, and knowing him, he probably doesn’t even realise what he’s doing. It’s driving Lance insane and he can’t stand it anymore, his arms and legs giving way, and he collapses on top of Keith, knocking the boy straight down with him and they hit the ground with a loud groan, neither of them sure who it came from.

“ _Dude_ ,” Keith coughs out, pushing at Lance’s chest, and Lance rolls off of him with another groan, sprawling out on his back as he mumbles a weak sorry. Keith waves him off, then he sits up, his head quickly swiveling around, face lighting up. “I won,” he says, and Lance shoots up too, mouth gaping.

“ _No_ , you fell too.”

“Only because _you_ fell on me.”

“That’s not my fault.”

“Uh, yes, it is.”

“But _you’re_ the one who distracted me!”

“How did _I_ distract you?”

“You-” Lance stops himself before he can say anything else, biting his tongue because he couldn’t exactly say ‘You licked your lips and made me want to kiss you’, could he? He tries to come up with something to say, anything, but Keith’s looking at him expectantly, eyebrows arched, gaze piercing into him and Lance does the only thing he can think of.

He tackles Keith to the ground.

“What the fuck?” Keith’s breath is knocked out of him, as he claws at Lance’s back, his legs kicking. “Don’t be such a sore loser, McClain.”

Lance stops for a moment, his eyes flashing a shade darker before he pins Keith down by the shoulders, surprisingly strong despite Keith lashing out at him in every direction. “Don’t call me that, Kogane,” he growls through gritted teeth, breath heavy.

Keith’s jaw sets tightly at the sound of the name, his name, and he grunts as he shoves Lance off, flipping them over so hard that Lance lands on his back with a loud bang, and a choked gasp escapes the boy’s lips, his eyes going wide and glassy. Keith’s arm presses down on Lance’s neck, his head leaning down dangerously close to Lance’s face and his voice is sharp, cold, when he hisses, “ _You_ don’t call me that. _Ever_.”

Lance’s chest heaves up and down, his heart racing, face going red. “Keith-” And Keith can hear the breathlessness in his voice, can hear the rush of his own blood ringing in his ears, and oh, God. He can’t be here anymore. He can’t do this, not now. He can’t have Lance, everyone, looking at him like he’s some kind of monster. Like he’d actually hurt Lance. He can’t, he can’t, he-

Keith is off of Lance and heading for the front door before he knows it, bumping into someone on the way out, and he almost yells at them, until he sees it’s the pizza guy, and it just reminds him that he fucked up a night that was supposed to be fun for everyone because he couldn’t control his temper over something as silly as a name, and he feels sick of himself, so he runs. He doesn’t know where, he just runs and runs and runs.

Lance is frozen on the ground for a moment after Keith is gone, but before Hunk can help him up, he’s already running to the stairs, his eyes straining to blink back the tears threatening to spill from his eyes and he can’t bring himself to even spare a glance back because seeing all their faces would just remind him that he ruined the entire night for everyone because he couldn’t control his feelings over something as stupid as a game, and it makes him feel like shit, so he cries. He doesn’t know how long, he just cries and cries and cries.

—

Pidge is standing in the middle of the living room, lips parted, but no words come out. She’s stuck in between going out after Keith, or checking on Lance upstairs, or staying right there and wondering what the fuck went wrong. Sure, the night hadn’t exactly started out great, and she’d anticipated the possibility that Keith and Lance would somehow end up getting on each other’s nerves, but she hadn’t expected it’d get this bad.

“Shiro, I-”

“Just let him cool off for a while,” Shiro sighs, running a hand over his weary face, into his hair.

“He always comes back,” Allura assures, a sad smile on her face as she squeezes Shiro’s arm. “In his own time.”

Pidge frowns, but nods anyway, turning to Hunk. “Hunk-”

“He needs time too,” Hunk tells her, tired lines lacing his eyes. “Just needs to get it all out of his system and he’ll be back to being Lance before you know it.”

Pidge looks unconvinced, but they know the boys better than anyone so the least she can do is trust them, and hope for the best. All she wanted was to spend a night with everyone, have a little fun, get to know each other a bit more, but now…

“So much for bonding, huh, sis?”

Pidge turns to see Matt with his back against the wall, his foot propped up against it, an oddly cynical smile tugging at the corners of his lips and Pidge almost scowls at him. “Don’t start,” she warns, but it doesn’t seem to have any effect on him as he pushes himself off the wall, walking towards her.

“I just don’t get it, you know,” he says, that smile still on his face, but his voice is cold and it makes Pidge’s skin crawl. “I don’t get why you bother with these people. Why you waste your time trying to get them to ‘get along’.”

“I’m just trying to make it a better place for everyone,” she answers slowly, her fists balling up at her sides, trying to keep her breaths steady. “To make it feel like home.”

“But this isn’t their home!” Matt yells suddenly, eyes burning and he stabs a finger towards Hunk and Shiro, gaze still on Pidge. “And _they_ are not our family, Katie.”

Pidge stills. Her blood freezes in her veins, her vision goes blurry, her throat goes dry, Shiro and Hunk’s voices go right over her head.

“Who’s Katie?”

“Pidge, what’s he talking about?”

All she can do is shake her head, again and again and again, and she can’t think, not now, not like this. Shiro looks like for the first time in his life, he doesn’t know what to do, and Hunk just looks so goddamn confused, and Matt, fucking Matt. He looks at her like he doesn’t realise what he just did, what he just said. Like he doesn’t realise he’s just ruined everything for her, for them. They were fine, they were going to be fine. They were finally home, and they found a family, and it may not have been perfect, but it was something. That’s all Pidge wanted, that’s all she needed. And now he’s taken that away from her.

“I'm not-” She tries to say, but a sob catches in her throat, robbing her of her words, and she turns away, pushing past Matt and she disappears upstairs just like Lance had earlier, the sound of her door slamming echoing through the house and it suddenly feels empty. So, so empty, and-

“Sorry to interrupt, but I need $40 for these or my boss will-”

“Get out.”

“What?”

“I said, get the fuck out,” Matt spits, shooting a sharp look at the pizza guy, and despite being almost half the guy’s size, with the way Matt’s snarling at him, he looks like he’s ready to rip the poor guy to shreds and luckily, the guy gets the hint and bolts, leaving the stack of pizzas on the floor.

Shiro and Hunk exchange glances, both unsure what to do, but Shiro gulps, taking a step towards the boy. “Hey, Matt-”

“Don’t,” he says, holding a hand up to silence Shiro, and he cocks his head to the side, lips twisting darkly. “I meant what I said. This isn’t your home, and we’re not your family. It’s never going to be. We are never going to be. The sooner you realise that the better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo, how was this chapter? Is the pace okay? The relationships between characters? Let me know with a comment! P/S: I know Matt's a little... ugh, but he has his reasons, I promise. Also, if you're enjoying this, it'd be super cool if you could help me share it around on twitter/tumblr etc. Kudos is always always always appreciated!


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